Duelist's Law
by Lunauc
Summary: Four years after the Defeat of Kefka, the world uses the rule of the coliseum to settle their differences. Gau seeks to make his way into the world of Fighters, but can he control the beast within? Returning to writing after RL problems. Pls R&R.
1. Finding one's path

!-- page { margin: 0.79in } P { margin-bottom: 0.08in } --

_Note: Okay, I'm not even gonna bother with disclaimers, since if you think I own any part of Final Fantasy or its characters then I seriously wonder how you had the intelligence to work a computer to find this fic, no offense. Pertaining to this story though, I know that there are characters from the game that aren't mentioned in this first chapter, and it's only because they haven't come up yet. Originally, I had planned for all the canon characters to appear with in the first couple of chapters. That is, until I realized how many chapters just the first arc of the story would take up. By chapter 7 though, the majority make appearances or are at least the story progresses though, I am aiming toward a grander scale, incorporating all of the canon characters and a plethora of original characters. Please, feel free to comment on either type. Also, don't jump to any conclusions about 'shippiness' or whatever you wanna call it. This isn't particularly a romance, though such aspects probably will be involved. This is more of a 'What if…?' venture. If you enjoy it, please let me know, and if you want to critique, that's cool too, as it is helpful to know what I'm doing wrong in my writing . Please Read and Review. – Lunauc_

* * *

**Duelist's Law**

**Chapter 1: Finding one's path…**

"Hhhyyyaahh!"

The high flying axe kick came down hard to meet a ready forearm to block the blow. The defender's strong frame barely shook from the hard heel, and he quickly forced back, pushing his attacker's one legged stance off balance. Proving a nimble opponent though, the shorter striker resigned himself to a backward handspring to keep from falling flat on his rear. Yet, half way through, as he balanced momentarily on his palms, he heard the fierce grunt of his opponent, signaling a coming attack. Vulnerable in this position the lighter fighter could not defend, or attack in any worthwhile way. All he could do was drop. Strong arms, went limp beneath him, as he fell face first for the floor. Coordinated rhythm let him roll his head forward and his hands planted to keep his chest from impacting too hard. The glancing scrape of a foot along the back of his thigh was proof of avoidance, as his body went slack and rolled to the floor like the arch of a rocking chair. He avoided that kick, but noting quickly only one of his opponent's feet in view before him, the acrobat knew he had to move quickly. Rolling hastily to the left, he heard a foot stomp hard on the mat where he had just lain. There was no time to rest, he had to regain a stance, or he was finished. Scissoring his legs, he quickly rotated his lower body, using the perpetuating force to kip up to a stance at his enemy's flank, just in time to block a back handed punch, as the larger fighter knowingly spun to meet him. Following up fluidly with a roundhouse kick, the shorter figure just managed to raise his knee in time to deflect with his leg. Still, the power knocked him back a bit and the larger man wasted no time in following up. A flurry of brutal punches rushed at the smaller fighter, who skillfully dodged and parried them with open hands. Their groans and grunts echoed off the planked walls of the dojo in which they battled. The hard footfalls of the duelists beat at the tatami. They were fast and fierce, though they were starting to tire from the exertion. The smaller one's fatigue from trying to keep up with his stronger opponent was starting to show in the form of noticeable sheen of sweat and hard ragged breaths. After almost half of an hour of this combat, the larger man was not much better off, considering he had more mass to be moving. However, being the one in control of the tempo and pace of the fight, his obvious experience gave him a clear advantage. His younger. smaller challenger was not about to let that get in the way though. Foregoing technique and precautions, he took a hop back, crouching down as his overwhelming opponent struck forward, his arms up to protect his body while he intended to sweep forth with his right leg to the younger fighter's shoulder. Before the leg could connect with its target though, the boy sprung forward and corkscrewed face up in the air. Hands forward as he rose over the kick, he cleared the larger man's blocking arms aside just enough to deliver a fierce spearing head butt to his gut. The muscle bound man doubled over as the breath was violently blown from his lungs. Now with the upper hand, the smaller and quicker fighter, still bent backward with his head in the others stomach, grabbed his opponents waist, shifted his shoulder against the mans gut and kicked off the ground to aim a crushing knee blow at his massive foe's face. It never quite made it that far though, as a firm hand batted the knee back and a thick arm closed down around the young man's head, holding his face firmly and unpleasantly in the larger man's armpit. Before the boy could struggle away the other large arm snaked under the boy's arm and the strong hands of the older fighter clasped together, all while he was coughing and huffing to get breath back. After a few unappetizing moments of flailing and gagging from the held boy, the larger man finally began breathing right again and used the fresh air in him to gloat, "Okay, brat, now... Who is the **Master**?" A few more seconds of struggling and finally the winner released his hold, dropping the boy to the ground.

The boy coughed and snorted, trying to get the malodorous stench out of his senses, while he pushed himself up to his hands and knees. Not bothering to look up he managed out gruffly, "Don'h know… hahk… but he don'h bathe enuff. Hggack!"

The large man, glared down at his student, stating in a warning tone, "Watch it, Gau, or maybe you want a second treatment of my special 'Stinkface Hold'!" The martial artist struck a proud muscle flexing pose over his now slightly green faced student's sickened form.

Flipping over on to his back, letting out a final nostril clearing snort, Gau shook his head, answering sternly in his gruff and mispronouncing voice, "HELL NO! I hate that attack. Yah know my nose's a lot more sens'tive than other people's."

"That's why I did it, Dummy." Sabin growled back at his student of four and a half years, nudging the boy's side with a quick toe jab. "You may not have many real weaknesses, kid, but they are there. And a smart opponent will monopolize on them." Lying on the ground, hands folded lazily on his abdomen, Gau just nodded back to his mentor, obviously disinterested. Noting the boy's attitude, Sabin let out a weary sigh, suggesting, "I don't think you're ready yet, Gau." With that he turned away, heading toward the open doorway and out into the warm sun of early morning. Taking only a second to slip into his sandals, he wasn't even completely out the door before his student's call came.

"I am ready!" Gau somersaulted toward the door, planting his feet to stand and hastily followed after his mentor. Meeting him along the brick layed path back to the humble cabin nearby, he insisted, "I'm ten times a fighter most guys my age're. Yah know I can compete!" Sabin spun back to look his student over appraisingly.

The boy had gone quiet, as Sabin took him in. Gau had grown a lot from the wild boy he was years back. Under Sabin's tutelage he had grown into a strong young man of almost eighteen years. Now standing only a few inches short of six feet, his physique remained very lithe and wiry, though tightly networked by well defined muscles that made him deceptively much stronger and faster than one would assume at first glance. Heck, he was almost on par with Sabin in terms of strength; a man practically twice his size. The scrutinizing gaze rising back up to a head sprouting a wild mane of spiky green hair and focusing on a pair of anxious and determined red eyes, Sabin let out a frustrated breath.

Nodding begrudgingly, he admitted, "Yeah, you are better than most your age, and you do have the reputation to qualify you, what with having helped save the world and all." Sabin made mocking 'whoop-dee-doo' gesture before stating finitely, "But you're still making a lot of the dangerous mistakes you were making way back when." Turning away, he began toward the back door of the house again, his student eagerly following.

With an annoyed tone to his voice, Gau retorted, "Whut? Just cuz I can't beat you? Last I recall, yer undefeated in the league. Do I havta be the best just ta enter?"

Stopping as he opened the back door which led into the kitchen, Sabin turned back one final time to reply, "No. You have to keep control." Stepping into the house, he called back without looking, "Get the dojo fixed up and get changed. The students will be arriving soon for the morning class." The door slid closed behind him and Gau just stood there, staring after his departed master. Jaw squared and eyes narrowed as he let out a feral growl. With a huff, he shook off the bestial tone and headed back toward the dojo to perform his chores. Much as he hated to admit it, he knew what Sabin was talking about, and he was partly right. The biggest reason, Sabin had insisted on training Gau in the martial arts was to help him gain control over the animal within himself. That fierce nature which fueled his monster emulating rages always took him over mind and body, leaving him as little more than an instinctive killing machine. Such was the defense his subconscious had created for a poor child left alone to defend himself against the horrors of the Veldt. Yet now among friends and allies, and no longer suffering and alone, he sought to rid himself of the fear and hatred he'd carried for so long. The martial arts made for a fine outlet. It allowed him to fight without resorting to the strength of his rage. Still, even after the years of learning and conditioning, it was still there beneath the surface. Whenever he was losing or a fight would drag on too long and he would become frustrated and impatient, bits of that wild nature would come to surface, just as Sabin had quickly noticed in Gau's kamikaze head butt. Like his Master said, Gau still had a ways to go in fully taming his monster. However, would he really be able to overcome his nature if he continued to avoid confrontation?

* * *

It has been four years, five months, two weeks and two days since Kefka's defeat, and the world has changed greatly since his chaotic reign. The determined people wasted no time rebuilding their towns and reestablishing their lives, and the now legendary heroes who had brought them this global revitalization were the first to be looked to for guidance. Edgar, King of Figaro, hesitantly reclaimed his thrown in response to the heartfelt call of his countrymen. Since then he has put every fiber of his being into being a leader worthy of them. Figaro was the first nation to be truly rebuilt, and even expanded to incorporate the northern continents of Kohlingen and Narshe, as well being the main representative to the Mobliz Peninsula.

The people remaining in the small villages of what was left of Doma sought the guidance of their nation's former general Cyan Garamonde, offering him the title of King, though he humbly turned it down. Still he helped establish a new government to pull together the rural communities of the now small island nation, and eventually accepted a position as elected Prime Minister over a body of elected heads from the four regions of Doma. Though he has accepted an executive position his life is still dedicated to swordsmanship, which he has chosen to pass on to a group of chosen soldiers from the various villages. Maintaining the way of Doma's traditional fighting styles is one of his strongest intents.

To the southwest a new government began in Jidoor, where the wealthy Lord Owzer was propositioned by of all people Setzer Gabbiani to go into the political career. Since Figaro was rapidly raised once more, they were going to need a bit of healthy economic competition or so the gallivanting gambler insisted. A whirlwind of promotion swept the continent and before anyone really bothered to dispute it Owzer was declared President to the rather unorthodox Republic of Jidoor. Many people say Setzer is the real "power behind the throne" so to speak, yet he publicly remains quiet on the issue, happily maintaining his casinos which he has opened across the continent as well as a few off the continent.

Meanwhile, Thamasa has remained an independent city state, and their boundaries are adamantly respected, especially since they have begun allowing in outsiders who have been studying the phenomenon of magic within the community. After the Kefka ordeal, many people outside of the confined island also began to show potential in the magical arts which have been theorized as a side effect of the chaos unleashed on the world. In treaty agreements, it was decided that a school would be built in Thamasa where young hopefuls since have been trained to harness and safely control their abilities. Many people see these young protégés as a sign of a bright new future for a world which had come so close to oblivion, and old Strago Magus is proud to be the appointed Head Master of the School.

The last Nation to arise was New Vector. Established only two and a half years ago on the land where Kefka's ominous tower once stood. Former soldiers of the Empire bound together the cities of Albrook and Tzen with a former low standing General by the name of Andre Larres; a strong-minded and iron-willed man who is well respected by his subordinates and citizens alike. Building an efficient and regimented society on the continent they have become a healthy and respected people, if not rather lacking in funds and, as Owzer claimed it once at a Summit meeting, Style. Regardless of superficial claims, New Vector was a comfortable success, with Larres as the first president. They are even building a new capitol over the remains of what was once Kefka's Tower. They had hoped to expand the country to encompass the far forking peninsulas to the Northeast. However, Figaro is currently in control of the Eastern Peninsula and more directly the town of Mobliz. They have also been in disputes over control of the Northern Peninsula with Doma, all three nations arguing over control of Nikeah. Similar diputes have arisen over the isle North of Doma, and in the last couple of years Narshe has been calling for rights of independence from Figaro.

Obviously these problems could not be ignored. However, the new world leaders had no desire to rekindle the forgotten armies of the past to fight over how to rebuild their world. Summits were held often between the figure heads and delegates trying to mediate fair and peaceful agreements, which all too often didn't work out. Oddly enough, the most competent and peaceful idea came from of all people the Master of the Coliseum. A man, who promoted violence and brutality, suggested just that to the world leaders. Handpicked warriors from each country would be allowed to compete in tournaments to decide the fate of political decisions. It was a wonderful alternative to war, and the people thrilled at the feats of combat that it boasted. Quickly the "Duelist's Law" was instituted, and has become a key to governing relations. The new law arose a state of combat fever, which spread quickly among the citizenry, who didn't want to wait for international disruptions just to see a fight. So new arenas have been constructed for general dueling venues. Soldiers who had been out of work since Kefka's rise and freelance martial artists were quick to join the craze in search of easy money and fame, though few rise to such heights. The sport is especially popular in places like Jidoor for the gambling aspect and New Vector due to the high population of former soldiers. However, the swordsmen of Doma are known to be among the strongest competitors and once in a while a magic-user from Thamasa will make an appearance on the circuit as well. Though, whether fought in one of the great arenas or in a Black Market pit, the Duelists are well respected and some times gain celebrity status.

Sabin, though he opted for a simple life as a Martial Arts instructor after the war, has often answered the call of his Brother Edgar to fight on behalf of Figaro. So far undefeated in the three tournaments he's participated in, Sabin is acclaimed as one of the best fighters in the world, which greatly increased his dojo enrollment. A good deal of intense training and hard labor did manage to ward off the less serious students though. Still, his first and most accomplished student is Gau. Having taken the boy in after the war, Sabin has intensively trained him to fight with calm precision rather than blind rage. His old habits still persist, yet Gau is determined to push himself forward and has even asked permission to become a Duelist to test himself against other fighters. So far Sabin has refused the boy's request. However, the former wild child will not give up on the notion so easily.

* * *

"Right Punch! Left Kick! Left Hook! Right block!" Standing before the kamiza, Sabin called out his orders to fourteen of his students, who were paired off on the dojo floor. One of each pair intricately followed the commands while the other performed the proper blocks and counters. The exercise had been going on for over twenty minutes now, steadily gaining in pace, with partners switching frequently who would take the command. All of the present students were boys and girls ranging from twelve to nineteen. Most were still amateurs having joined in the last year, and having held on through Master Figaro's harsh lessons. He was famous for having sessions that could last from dawn til late after dark, since he never ended things until he was satisfied with each member's performance. Hence why so many wannabe's usually dropped out after the first day. Today's session was already in its third hour, and coming up on noon, one eighteen year old who had gotten fed up had already walked out half an hour ago. The school's four seniors, having been around since near or before the time of the dojo's establishment three years back, sparred along the left wall from the Kamiza. Gau was paired at the head with a burly young nineteen year old by the name of Brock. Garbed in a cut purple muscle shirt to display a chiseled physique and pair of sturdy white training pants held on by a stiffly tied red belt, his crew cut black hair closely resembling their Master, and having a stance and fighting style neatly and strongly applied in order with Sabin's command, he was obviously one of the tougher students in the dojo. However, Gau, currently dressed in a pair of baggy yellow short pants and a plain white sleeveless gi shirt, tied on with a black belt, effortlessly dodged and blocked the instructed blows, countering with creative and some times odd replies. After all, the point of this exercise was both to ingrain the moves and techniques of the school, as well as to encourage the one not taking commands to think of ways around those stances and blows, both to prepare for fighting of other schools and to cultivate improvisation and development of the style. Sabin would avidly watch these sessions, often picking people out to come to the front and display new ideas, testing their feasibility. Whether a worthy move or not, each display did make for a learning experience in what would and would not work. "Cease!" On Sabin's command, all of the students halted their sparring, taking a rigid stance before each other. "Line up." Quickly the students moved to position to sit on the floor, seniors along the left side; Joseki, and the nine underclassman lined up along the right side; Shimoseki. Taking his own seat before the alter at the Kamiza, Sabin took a stern look around at his students, who apprehensively waited, breathing hard though keeping straight postures, expecting to be either chastised or be given harsh new orders from their Master, given his currently steely expression. After a long moment of silence though, they were all relieved to see a smirk break on his face. With an amused little chortle at their worried looks, Sabin spoke affably, "You all did very well today. Class is dismissed." A few scattered cheers and a lot of tired sighs came from the gathered students, who happily rose from their seats to begin their cleaning duties before leaving.

While the others moved to start wiping down the floors and put away the equipment, a couple of students moved to speak with Master Sabin. One was an underclassman, who regrettable admitted he'd been missing some classes from now on because his Mother was insisting he get a tutor to help bring up his grades in school. Sabin sighed wearily, consenting to the boy who quickly bowed to his Master and then hurried to join his friends in getting the floor clean so they could go. The other student before him was his third senior, Carina Tellius, a rather reserved though ambitious girl of seventeen. She has a surprisingly regal upbringing, for a martial artist, as the daughter to a wealthy land owner in South Figaro. Her chestnut brown hair was tied back in a pony-tail to show a pretty, round face, which most of the boys pulled their punches to keep from hitting, and quickly regretted when she would strike back with a punch harder than most of the guys. Since joining up she has studied hard to be one of the top students and keeps on par as a senior student, in spite of being busy attending a prestigious private school. Though she lacks the greater strength of some others, she does have a keen eye for movement and a competence for counter attacks that have gained her high ranking in several female junior and amateur duelist competitions around Figaro. In the coed ranks she tends to fall behind though is still known to place well. Standing before her teacher in a fitted powder blue gi, string-tied closed at the side, she speaks pleadingly to him, "Didn't you see my knee block counter, Master? The follow up punch got right threw Alonso's defense."

Sabin gave a nod in agreement following up with, "Yes it did. But the stance you took had too many weaknesses. You're torso was wide open. Only one foot was holding you up making you unbalanced, and most of your weight was still shifted back from your kick, so you couldn't put much any force behind the punch itself. Sorry, but it just wouldn't work out."

Gaping back at him Carina whined back, "Oh come on. It can work! It just needs some improvement."

"I'd say a lot of improvement." Brock chimed in from behind her as he strolled over, "I mean you can't expect everyone to want to learn a move just because Alonso couldn't block it. Then we'd be learning all kinds of garbage."

Picking up on the berating tone, the fourth senior in question lifted his gaze from his duty at hand of wiping down the tatami floor to argue back at Brock, "Hey, I heard that, muscle head!" Alonso, crouched on the floor with a rag in hand, glared to the older boy. At sixteen he is the youngest of the seniors and coincidentally the smallest. He stands just a hair over five feet even though he doesn't have one strand of it on his thoroughly shaven, round head. He has a very gentle nature which has earned him the title of class runt even among the younger kids who couldn't beat him. Though Brock always seemed an exception with the boy.

Brock shrugged, mockingly replying, "Who ever said I was trying to keep it secret?" The older and younger seniors often butted heads. Regardless of Alonso's kind persona, Brock's cocky attitude usually got under his skin.

Screwing up his rather childish face into a sneer, Alonso warned, "Yeah, we'll just see how you feel about my skills at Saturday's competition. I'm gonna blow you away!"

Brock chortled in response, commenting offhandedly, "Oh, you'll blow alright."

Suddenly red in the face, Alonso bickered back, "You stupid sonova…"

"SHUT IT!" Their Master's call quieted them both, as Sabin looked back and forth between the boys, remarking in consideration, "I hear a lot of stupid words between you two sometimes, and you know what those words are today? I hear the two of you volunteering to finish clean up duties for everyone." Hearing that, the other students stopped their chores to look up at the Master, whom the two seniors were now gaping at in disbelief. Addressing the rest of the class, Sabin instructed, "Thank you everyone, you can go home early to day. Your seniors have graciously decided to do your chores for you." A bevy of cheers passed among the students along with a few scattered cries of "Thank you, seniors!"

While the others stood to leave, calling back their goodbyes to their master, Brock tried to argue, "But, Master, th-that's not fair."

Waving to his departing students, Sabin stared down his upset senior, warning him sternly, "I have not rescinded my previous "Shut it", so keep your mouth shut and get to work, now!"

Brock gave an aggravated groan as he begrudgingly turned to walk toward a rag left on the floor to help Alonso wipe it down. On passing the still kneeling boy, the bald kid, commented off hand, "This is all your fault." Not bothering to reply, Brock just answered with a kick to the boys raised rear in passing, sending him face first into the dojo floor. Quickly righting himself, Alonso kicked back into Brock's shin.

"Ow! You little creep!" Brock cursed at the younger boy while rubbing at a now sore raised leg.

"THAT'S IT!!" Sabin yelled, reaching back near the altar to grab an old bamboo cane. "It's time to receive your Master's disciplining! Now get over here!" Wasting no more time than it took to glance at each other, Brock and Alonso were up and running out of the dojo, with Sabin rushing close after them. "Don't run away! Take your punishment like men!" While they cried like little children running from a big scary monster, Carina and Gau stayed back in the dojo, laughing there heads off at the display.

Gau, who had been quietly stuffing training gloves back into a duffle bag, strolled over to Carina, while watching out the open doorway as the screaming boys ran back and forth to avoid Sabin's wrath. With one more giggle, Carina commented to Gau, "One of these days, those two are gonna be the death of each other, and Master Sabin's going to be the cause."

Gau snickered back, nodding in agreement, but added thoughtfully, "Maybe... maybe, but fighting with each other duz make'em stronger. One of'em might even win thuh Amatuer Competition dis weekend." As he watched them running through the yard, a purposeful cough from the girl beside him reminded the boy to hastily amend, "Or you... You've gotten a lot stronger in thuh last coupla' munths too."

Grinning at that, Carina blushed a bit at his consideration, replying politely, "Gee, thanks, Gau. That means a lot coming from you." She glanced at him while he watched the other boys still running for their lives with a grin on his, in her opinion, handsome face. Chewing her lip for a second, she added, "It's too bad you don't enter too though. I mean it's open to anyone outside the pro circuit, and you would win easy."

"Too easy." Gau replied without looking to her, "Sabin says, most kids my age don't have my experience or abilities. It wouldn't be fair."

There was a far away look in Gau's eyes that Carina carefully noted. Not quite sure what to say next to fill the silence, she settled for a soft spoken, "That's too bad."

It was another short moment, before Gau turned back to her with a kind grin, offering, "Hey, if you want, I can help you with that move ya were workin' on. Maybe we can get it ta work in time fer thuh competition."

Looking back to him, a bit flustered, she stuttered back, "U-uh… Yeah, th-that'd be great." Sucking in a breath she muttered in after thought, "Perhaps we could go up Mount Kolts to train. I'll pack a lunch, and we can spar in the cool breeze, then lounge in the grass and just enjoy each other's company, and…"

"Uuooo?" The odd questioning sound that came from Gau was just a little bit of his strange language that people eventually begin to understand the longer they know him. Even if Carina didn't understand that though, the oblivious confusion on his face was enough to make her realize how she was sounding.

With a cough to clear her throat she corrected with feigned disinterest, "Or we could just train here." The boy blinked in thought as he stared at her unsure expression.

"Stop running, you cowards! It's just ten lashes now. But it'll be thirty if you keep running!" Sabin cried from outside as the boys stayed not so far ahead of him.

Between whimpers Alonso felt it necessary to yell out once more to his running partner, "This is all your fault!"

"Stop saying that!" Brock sharply retorted as he begged his legs to pump faster.

* * *

A couple hours later, after the dojo was cleaned and the teens had gone to their respective homes to clean up and change, they met up at their favorite café in South Figaro. Sitting around a glass top table under a red and white striped umbrella along the boulevard as traffic passed leisurely by, the warm wind of late spring swept gently along swaying the newly flowering young trees lining the road. It really was quite a nice spot. The teens chatted idly, as they lounged around, dressed for just that in their baggy street clothes. Carina opted for a more figure fitting green, palm leave print sundress, showing off a well defined young body, which gained a good deal of attention from passersby. However, the one she wanted to be looking was busy staring at his chocolate parfait. With a goofy grin on his face, Gau devoured the sweet dessert, getting a bit smeared on his face as he did. Carina giggled at his complete lack of table manners, handing him a paper napkin. "Careful Gau, you're making a mess."

As he took the napkin to quickly wipe his face, Brock added in, "Yeah, man, it's like dining with a four year old. Learn to use a spoon."

His face mostly clean save some scarce chocolate on his cheek, Gau gave a weak salute to Brock, offering in amusement, "Aye, Aye, matey." Brock groaned as he picked up on Gau's intent, once more subtly commenting on his swollen black eye Sabin had given him, which the others kept insisting looked like a pirate's eye patch. Slight sniggers rose from Carina and Alonso while Brock passed them each a threatening glare.

They turned away from his glare, still giggling, until Brock pointed out coldly, "I wouldn't be laughing if I were you… Skunk." In a quick gesture Brock snatched the fisherman's cap from Alonso's head revealing a vicious purple welt striping his bald head.

"Hey, cut it out!" Also croaked as he grabbed the hat back, and quickly returned it to his scalp. "This is so embarrassing. I hope it clears up before the tournament."

Letting her last snickers fade off, Carina looked pityingly to the boys, sympathizing in a somewhat patronizing manner, "Oh, you poor little babies, is the big scary teacher too mean to you?" Neither seemed very soothed by her words though, especially as she followed up accusingly with, "Come on, it's your own faults. You know how Master Sabin feels about your petty fights."

Brock rolled his eyes at the accusation, while Alonso pointed to him, stating firmly, "It's his fault."

Glaring at the younger boy, Brock hissed through gritted teeth, "I told you to stop saying that." Alonso just held out his tongue in response, until Brock rose up an arm to take a swing at him.

Before the punch could be thrown, Gau casually spoke up, "I don't see thuh problem. Sabin duzn't hurt ya guys too bad."

"What?!" They indignantly yelled back at him in unison, while he shoveled another spoonful of chocolaty goodness into his mouth.

Sucking the sweetness from the spoon, Gau just shrugged at them. Then depositing the utensil and dessert filled glass onto the table he sat back and pulled up his loose, white cotton t-shirt to reveal a series of bruises on his well sculpted and well scarred abdomen. Pointing out the blotches, he calmly explained, "He gave me these durin' training sessions, en I didn't even do nothin' wrong." The boys gaped at his brutally treated flesh, while Carina turned a blushing face from Gau's exposure.

Brock stuttered out nervously, "Th-the Master did that to you?" His eyes and mouth surprisingly widened even further as Gau nodded back. Of course, the wild boy was only thinking of the bruises, not the scars from his past on the Veldt.

An equally unnerved Alonso turned to Brock to whisper grimly, "We are lucky. Who knew the master was this kind of sadist?"

Brock turned from the table to speak secretly with his classmate, "Yeah, and Gau's even his favorite." Gulping back the sudden rising fear in his throat he mused worriedly, "What would he do if we really made him angry?" The boys shared a horrifying image of their master donning full leather bondage gear and brandishing a barbed cat-o-nine tails. While they trembled in mutual terror, Gau lowered his shirt back into place, the sound of the action letting Carina know she could tentatively look back to him.

Unfortunately not a moment after she did, he stood up and began to unbuckle his belt to lower his pants, pointing out, "End thuh other day out in thuh yard, he flipped me onta a hard rock, end I got a nasdy bruise on my…" He had turned around to display his wounded behind, while Carina stared on in shock, her face a burning crimson as his yellow trimmed green shorts began to lower, displaying all too much for her innocent eyes.

The thoughtless and shameless wild boy however had no clue why she suddenly turned her head and screamed out, "NO!!!" A quick shoving hand thrust out to collide with his bruised posterior. The sudden pain sent him toppling over his seat to land on top of the passing waiter. The cry of the server and the din of his clattering dishes to the stone of the patio acted as a call to all passersby. In the middle of the out door café, Gau lay atop an unfortunate older man, the boy's shorts lingering down around his ankles as the passing people stared and pointed, and a shamed and embarrassed Carina tried to cover her red face with her cupped hands.

* * *

The birds chirped lazily in the mid day on this mountain road. Small birds flitted around the humble, yet well kept yard of a simple cabin home enjoying the proffered seed from several hanging feeders in the trees and drinking from the four cut stone birdbaths placed about the gardened area. The cabin's walls were freshly painted and the flower beds in front were alive with lilies, peonies and assorted grasses. Sabin did like to keep his students busy, and working his yard built character or at least that's what he tells them. The wind is gentle today, though it's enough to shake the bamboo wind chimes on the porch. Their sounding though is not what suddenly alerts the birds. That is the approaching 'warking' cry of chocobos, pulling an ornamented carriage up the dirt road to this humble cottage. The driver, dressed in the green and red vestments of the Figaro army wore a silver helmet which extended down to mask his eyes and nose with the sculpted visage of a sneering brow and cut out sections with wolf like ears on the sides. All that was revealed of his face was a smooth skinned chin quite the converse to his grotesque mask He pulled the reins to halt the large yellow birds. After they stopped, giving a few aggravated 'warks' around the harnesses in their beaks, the soldier hopped down from his seat to open the carriage door for his passenger. Out stepped the famed king, Edgar Roni Figaro. The years really hadn't changed him much. Still dressed in his regal, if not a bit cheap for one of his stature, attire and holding the same air of arrogance about him as always, he stepped down from the carriage and breathed in a lungful of the fresh country air. "Ah… It's so nice to get away from the machinations for a change. Do you not agree, Lykopis?"

Nodding his helmeted head, the soldier, a bit taller, though slighter in stature to his liege, spoke in a soft voice with a rather forced gruffness, "Yes, my Liege."

Edgar smiled to the expressionless soldier, suggesting offhandedly, "Perhaps we could spend the day basking in the comfort of the simple life for a while. The sunset looks beautiful over these mountains."

Indifferently Lykopis replied, "As you wish, my Liege. However, we do have a ship to catch in a few hours. Another boat will not be leaving until tomorrow, and by then you will already be late for your meeting in Nikeah."

Sighing wearily, Edgar sourly replied, "That is true. I guess relaxation will have to wait for another day." Shrugging off his sorrow like it were the cloak on his back, Edgar jovially retorted, "I'll just have my quick little discussion and then we'll be off then, 'kay?"

Giving a polite bow, Lykopis stated plainly, "Yes, my Liege."

"Alright then…" As Lykopis straightened back up, Edgar began away from the carriage, heading for the stepping stone path leading around to the back of the cottage. Without stopping, he personably called back over his shoulder, "And for the hundredth some odd time… call me Edgar." Like always Lykopis gave no reply, and the young King continued his walk around the house, and into the equally well gardened backyard. The path he followed led to a fork, the left leading toward the back of the house and the right leading off into a forest path. In the clearing ahead, through the trees, Edgar could already see the reason for this visit. Sabin set there silently, beside a koi pond, with his back to the path, and apparently meditating. Quietly as he could, Edgar sneaked through the path and up around his seated brother. Staring for a second at his relaxed expression told Edgar that the man was in truly deep concentration. Not really wanting to disturb the martial artist's practices, the King resigned to plop down to a seat beside him. Staring at the fish in the pond, listening to the surrounding birds, he mused, "You know, this place really is nice."

"Sssnnnnnnoooooorrrrrrreeee…." The rising sound from his brother whose head lazily rolled to the side, called Edgar's attention. In his sleep the fighter mumbled incoherently, while his royal brother steamed in royal annoyance. Suddenly he landed a swift smack to Sabin's shoulder, knocking him back into consciousness. "Eh… huh… wha…?" Blinking the sleep from his eyes, Sabin took a deep breath and took a look around, to find his brother sitting beside him, looking kind of peeved. Grinning to him, Sabin greeted happily, "Hey Bro, what brings you here?"

Peering sideways to his burly sibling, Edgar replied elusively, "A carriage."

Rolling his eyes at his brother's literal response, Sabin specified, "For what reason?"

"Because it's faster than walking."

"Cute…" Sabin spoke dryly. "Seriously though, why are you here? You haven't come to visit me in almost half a year."

"Has it really been that long? Hmph…" A nostalgic look crossed his face, before musing in low tone, "Too long…"

"Well, at least you're here now, which brings me back to wondering… why-are-you-here?" Sabin firmly stated the question as he looked with idle interest to his brother.

Edgar gave a sigh, begrudgingly resigning himself to answer, "I was simply passing by your cottage on the way to the South Figaro port and decided to stop in." Sabin pressed his brother with an appraising stare, and Edgar admitted, "However, I do have an alterior reason for visiting." He hesitated for a moment under Sabin's not so surprised gazed, before sighing and explaining, "I'm going to Nikeah for a meeting on the Mobliz Treaty. New Vector is contesting for control again and…"

Sabin finished, "They're calling for a Duel to decide it."

"Exactly." Edgar dryly stated.

Staring into the sun's reflection in the pond, Sabin somberly questioned, "Is it just New Vector in the ring?"

The King's head shook. "No. Doma has also called for an entrance, should Mobliz go up for grabs, as well as Jidoor. There's even an independence organization in Mobliz asking for entrance." The martial artist gave a glance to his brother on the last note, yet the King preemptively answered, "There's no point in offering Mobliz independence at this point. They wouldn't have the funds to support themselves."

Sabin consented as he looked back to the fish in the pond. Offhandedly he enquired, "Have you heard anything from Terra on the subject? I mean this is her home."

"I'm afraid she's staying out of it, Bro. She doesn't want to instigate the situation by taking a side."

Rolling his eyes, Sabin commented in a huff, "Oh, come on. She could probably calm the whole situation easy. Everyone looks up to her. She's like a Saint. Heck, there were even those fanatics who use to pray outside her Orphanage."

A smirk came to Edgar's regal countenance as he recalled the questionably minded group. Chuckling discreetly he reminisced, "Oh man, those guys were hilarious." Shaking his head, he thought back on the scene from years back, when the group of pilgrims had journeyed to the ruins of Mobliz to be near the last of Esper blood in this world. They had dressed in robes of prayer and bowed before Terra's home; men, women and children, whole families, looking for something to follow came before what they saw as the most worthy idol these times had to offer. The young Figaro King was fortunate enough to be present with his friends the day they arrived. Recalling the first interactions, Edgar sat up to kneel beside his brother, acting out the part of the leader of the pilgrims, an old man by the name of Jansum Crier. In a pious tone, he spoke back the words of the Esper-praiser, "Dear Lady of the Light, please do not turn us away. We wish only to serve and honor you."

Sabin gave a booming laugh at his royal brother's precise acting. Taking a moment to steady him self out, the martial arts master did his best to mimic the shocked and confused expression Terra had shown that day, he tried to give an impression of her feminine voice, falling miserably, "What're you talking about."

Jansum, played by Edgar, announced proudly, "We have all seen your light, as you have streaked across the skies. You are the last of your glorious and grand kind in this world, and we prostrate ourselves before you. We are your children, please lead us to enlightenment." Edgar lay forward completely against his legs, face to the ground and arms outstretched before the "Goddess".

At this point during the actual event, the others were snickering in the background and trying hard not to laugh in front of these serious believers. Sabin played out Terra's reaction, nailing the awkward embarrassment and as his eyes scanned back and forth as if searching for the right words to say to make this all go away. Meekly he stuttered out, still nowhere near right on the voice, "Uh-uh… w-well, um… th-thank you all… for th-the consideration that is, but I'm not really…" Giving a cough to clear his voice as he recalled her doing, Sabin affirmed in a weakly steeled tone, "I'm not what you think I am. My Father was an Esper, yes, but my Mother was human, just like all of you. And besides, I'm… uh… only nineteen." Scratching the back of his head nervously as she'd done, offering a plastic smile, he nervously consoled, "I wouldn't know how to lead you, and I'm kind of busy with my own children to take you all in. I mean, most of you are a little old to be treated like kids." Back then, murmurs and whispers passed among the gathered worshippers, who were quickly beginning to think they'd made a gargantuan mistake.

Noticing the discouraged tone passing among his people, Jansum kept his faith looking back to their chosen deity to declare, as Edgar quoted, "I understand, my Goddess." Sabin looked relieved, until Edgar continued his part, "You need to test our faith, to be sure that we will not be easily swayed from your path."

The relief quickly shattered leaving a fretful frown, "What?"

As Edgar stood, he pretended to remove his phantom outer robe, letting it fall to the ground as he spoke, "I will prove myself my Lady. I have no fear of shame or judgment in your wondrous presence." Unfastening the clasp of his non present robe to lay himself bare before the young half-Esper woman, several gasps passed among the onlookers of memory, while the Returners of the day began to laugh aloud.

Innocent young Terra Branford desperately covered her virgin eyes and blushing face behind her clasped hands as the old man revealed his sagging, wrinkled, nude form without hesitation. Sabin, acting out the girl's part cried out through his clasped hands, "Please, please! SHOW SOME SHAME!!!" That was the straw that sent the thirty-one year old king tumbling forward in a laughing fit. Quickly his twin brother followed suit, rocking back to lie laughing on the ground. Their joyous cries echoed in the mountain forest, as the Brother's enjoyed the nostalgic comedy. Eventually, Sabin spoke up, "Man, I still can't believe he did that."

Sucking in a deep breath, of which he'd been depraved as he laughed, Edgar pointed out with a voice still shaken by amusement, "I can't believe they still made the guy Mayor of Mobliz."

Still snikering at the thought, as he pushed himself to sit back up, Sabin considered aloud, "Well, he did do a good job of getting Mobliz rebuilt with his 'followers', after he got his head straight about that whole Terra thing."

Smiling nostalgically, Edgar consented, "Yes, he did turn out to be a very resourceful and determined man, and they did a wonderful job of fixing up Terra's Orphanage. Heck it's still the pride of the town. The village really does raise those kids." Giving a nod, his smile slowly waned though as he pointed out, "However, the man is still rather rash." Glancing up to his brother, "He's the one leading the Independence Committee in Mobliz." Sabin didn't seem the surprised. Then Edgar added, "He asked Terra to fight for the cause."

That flattened the fighter's smile, as he stared back at his brother, taking in the statement, before speaking backhimself, "She said no though." Sure in that, even before Edgar nodded in confirmation, Sabin added, "Which means they'll be looking for fighters to represent them." Edgar simply gave another confirming nod. Sabin turned away, thinking over the situation as the light breeze combed through his crew cut. "Have they approached anyone yet?"

The King shrugged regretfully, admitting, "I don't know. But if the decision does bring on a tournament, you can be sure that they'll be bidding for the best they can find. And the money they waste will only hurt their Township further." Sabin gave a sigh to his brother's words, listening as Edgar continued, "I do understand how they feel. I mean the way that peninsula has been tug-of-warred back and forth, if I lived there I'd be yelling for independence too." Glancing up to Sabin, the King spoke almost pleadingly, "But they just aren't ready. What meager economy they have would crumble quickly, and then we'd be right back to the same power struggle all over again."

"I know." Sabin stated even before his brother finished his last sentence.

Knowing his Brother fully understood the situation, Edgar pointed out anyway, "I don't know what kind of tournament it would be or how many fighter's will be allowed from each bidder, or even if it will come about, which I hope it doesn't. Yet, should this fight come about, you would be…"

"I'll think about it." Sabin preemptively stated, already knowing the King of Figaro wished him to fight on the Nation's behalf.

"You'll… think about it?" Edgar repeated rather dourly.

Turning back to look at his Brother, Sabin finitely stated, "I'll think about it."

Giving a weary sigh, Edgar consented to his Brother's decision, "You know, for a muscle head you really do think a lot."

"For a King, you don't think quite enough." Sabin commented as he peered aside to his brother.

With mock indignation, Edgar replied in exasperation, "Now you question my right to lead. Why I'll have you know I am greatly beloved by my people. I've had three noble ladies offer their hands in marriage to me in the last year alone." Holding out three fingers to Sabin, the martial artist shrugged back disinterested.

"Well if number of Marriage proposals is what you base Royal decree upon, then the last letter I got from Terra said she had gotten fifteen proposals in the last month." Rolling his head to face Edgar, he mused, "By your logic, I guess she should be the official Queen of Mobliz anyway."

Edgar took a moment to think the statement over, giving a nod as he considered, "Your right, then so it shall be. I will go before the beauteous Lady Terra and offer myself to her in marriage, so that she may be my Queen. Together we shall bring forth prosperity, love and happiness to the people as we experience it ourselves."

Sabin only blinked back for a moment, before idly noting, "Or instead, she could keep her dignity." His Brother's deadly glare quickly came to rise, to which Sabin only chortled lightly.

"My Liege …" The gruffly serene voice called from the nearby path, where Lykopis stood bowing before the King and estranged Prince. "I am sorry to interrupt your conversation. However, we do not have much time to make the ship's departure."

Sabin raised a brow to the Soldier, neither Brother having noticed the masked figure's approach. Edgar however, replied completely familiar with the situation, "It is quite alright, Lykopis. Promise I'll be over shortly. May we have just one more moment?"

"As you wish, my Liege." Lykopis plainly stated and turned to walk back to the carriage.

As the uniformed body disappeared behind the trees, Sabin cocked his head aside, musing, "Well, even if I don't fight, you always have that guy. He's pretty damn strong."

Nodding surely, Edgar cited, "Undoubtedly, Lykopis is extremely reliable. I trust few people as greatly."

Narrowing his eyes on his Brother, Sabin admitted quietly, "Personally the guy really creeps me out. Never says anything except what's necessary, then he just glares you down whenever you aren't acting seriously." Picturing the image of the lean, yet imposing figure, Sabin gave a shiver. "Eesh… creepy…"

Letting out a bemused snicker, Edgar gave a considering nod, as he condoned, "It's true, Lykopis is rather hard to understand. However, that Soldier I will never question." Standing up, Edgar smiled down on his Brother, musing mildly, "I'll have to drop by again sometime soon."

"Anytime, Bro." Sabin happily reiterated, while retaking his cross-legged position. "Anytime."

Edgar gave a brief bow and began on his way back up the trail. He was only a few meters from his starting point when he stopped to turn back, and ask in final thought, "By the way, how's Gau coming along?"

Sabin didn't even bother to turn back, as he was already closing his eyes to resume his meditation, but answered matter-of-factly, "He's made a lot of progress."

"Really?" Edgar gave a thoughtful nod, cleft chin bobbing rhythmically, before asking further, "What of his requests to become a Duelist? Have you…?"

"That… he isn't ready for." Sabin once more cut in.

Edgar gave a submitting shrug, casting back, "Too bad. Once he is ready though, he's gonna make one hell of a showing. Maybe he'll even fight for Figaro."

Though the Martial Artist's posture remained straight and his eyes closed, Sabin's head rolled to the side, as he pointed out lazily, "Now you're getting shameless."

The King gave an undedicated laugh, as he philosophized to his Brother, "Heck, that's the thing about being a leader. Sometimes you have to be a bit shameless if you want everything to turn out alright." Turning around, he waved back over his shoulder, calling back, "See you around, Bro, hopefully only with good news to talk about." As he disappeared back up the trail, Sabin only nodded in return, eyes closed as he focused back into his meditation.

* * *

"So what the heck are we doing here, Brock?" Alonso asked in growing agitation as he, Carina and Gau followed the bulky youth through the front doors of the South Figaro Arena. This Saturday they'd be in this arena for the Third Annual Amateur Duelist Grand Tournament. But today the lobby was significantly packed even though no fights were scheduled for the afternoon. Looking around, the senior student's noticed that most seemed to be reporters and photographers while the rest were the average gathering of Duelist fans. Various conversations played among the crowd, causing a confusing and inaudible din as everyone tried to talk over each other.

Glancing back at his peers, Brock asked in obvious frustration, "Yer telling me you guys didn't hear about this today?"

Arching a thin brow, Carina inquired, "Hear about what?"

Letting out a groan, Brock was about to answer, but before he did, the room began to quiet. Looking toward the stage set up to the side of the lobby, as everyone else did, they watched as from a side door, a group, led by a stocky, bald, middle-aged man in a lavish red and orange robe, entered toward the stage. He is Baron Volga, the owner of this Arena, a former Coliseum champion and trainer for many young fighters. He's even been known to climb back in the ring himself from time to time. Behind him follows a couple of stripe robed officials of the Arena and one young fighter, wearing black armoring down his arms and legs, and leaving his chest bare to reveal a toned build, etched by tribal tattoos. As he makes his way last up on to the stage he smirks confidently to the audience, his long black pony-tail tossed back as he turns his youthful face to look out upon the sea of already questioning reporters and flashing picture boxes. Across the way Brock sneers at the man, hissing out, "Uqba is giving a press conference."

The reporters jockeyed for questioning position, as they called out their inquiries about the young fighter's career; asking of his strategy for the upcoming tournament, his plans for future matches, and one man even wanted to know what "lucky girl" the Junior Champion was seeing. None of them were answered though, as the robed figure of Baron Volga stepped up before the podium, set with four microphones from the local radio stations, holding out his hands in calming as he commanded firmly, "Please, please, everyone quiet down. Quiet down." As the swell of questioning began to subside, the Baron assured, "We'll answer all of your questions before the session is over. Firstly though, the Mighty Uqba has an announcement for you all." Turning to his protégé in question the dark-skinned, pony-tailed young fighter, strutted confidently up to the podium receiving a proud pat to his armored upper arm as the Baron moved aside. Save for a few photo flashes and some whispered chatter among the press members, the room remained calm.

Though one veteran reporter did speak up from the front row, "Roland Nielson, Gaia Chronicles, so what's this about Uqba? Just wanted to flex for the press, or do you actually have something important for us to hear today?" That passed a few murmurs around the crowd, as the Baron was known for calling out the press just whenever he wanted to hike ticket sales with one of his fighter's feats of prowess.

Giving a low chortle at the comment, Uqba seemed rather amused by the accusation. Shaking his head firmly, he held his head high as he called down, "Mr. Nielson, I assure you, this is something worth hearing." The war-seasoned reporter simply returned a questioningly raised brow before Uqba continued, "As you all know, in a couple of days I'll be taking part in the Third Annual Amateur Tournament here in the Figaro Arena, and just as last year, I plan to conquer it. That's no big surprise." Brock tensed furiously at the other man's arrogance. "After all, I've pretty much ruled the Figaro Junior league for the last year, and even in the international leagues I've participated in, I've always come out on top." Letting out a weary sigh, he mused to the gathered listeners, "Frankly, I'm getting tired of all these fights that I know I can win." A growl rose from Brock, gaining Gau's attention. "The Amateur League holds no more challenge for me. So after I win this year's Grand Tournament, I'm moving up to join the Professional fighting ranks!" The crowd quickly began their questioning over each other again, while Uqba paid them little mind. Holding up his armored hand and balling it into a tight fist he stated definitely, "It's time this metal felt blood in the ring." Photo flashes snapped off in rapid succession as the young Champion held his pose and the reporters called out their unanswered questions. Brock was barely restraining a growl, as his body tensed in frustration. Beside him his friends looked on a bit unnerved, save for Gau, whose attention was quickly on Uqba. Aftering hearing his declaration to enter the Professional ranks, the wild boy's appraising eye became clearly set on him in curiosity. The dark-haired fighter gladly flexed his sculptured muscles for the audience, showing he surely had the crowd appeal to be a mainstream duelist. It was his fighting abilities that Gau was more interested in though.

"I'M GONNA KICK YOUR SORRY ASS!!!" The yelled statement rose over the crowd from the back of the room, calling everyone's attention, including the perusing Gau and an only mildly aggravated Uqba. Standing before his surprised friends, the burly form of Brock glared at Uqba, fists held down at his sides, as his face strained in a vicious sneer.

Curious whispers passed among the crowd, while Uqba just sighed in annoyance, asking disinterestedly, "And you are…?" Alonso stepped discretely aside, while Carina turned away, averting her eyes, hoping no one would notice they were with him. Gau, on the other hand, could only blink thoughtlessly as he watched his friend's outburst.

Proudly, the young fighter answered back, "I am Brock, of the Blitz Fist school of Martial arts." The name of the school instantly earned a reaction from the crowd, as everyone was familiar with the school of the Champion fighter Sabin. Uqba however seemed rather disinterested. Raising a finely groomed brow in questioning of the statement, it took a moment before a look of realization graced his countenance.

"Oh right… I remember you now." Attention turned back to Uqba, awaiting his answer. "You're that disgrace that I pummeled in the semi finals last year. I recall that match took… what was it? Twenty seconds?" Brock visibly strained as a few snickers passed among the reporters. Another flash of remembrance flashed across the amateur champ's face as he added, "And I think I fought you a few months ago in a scheduled match too. Though I must admit as I recall you did much better in that fight. I think you stayed on your feet for a whole minute. Several of the reports began to laugh a bit louder. Apparently they had caught that fight as well.

Growling at the mockery, Brock yelled out again, "Shut it, Jerk Wad! I might have lost to you in the past, but this time I am going to beat you! I'll show you why I'm Master Sabin's top student!"

"His top student, you say?" Uqba considered the statement for a moment, retorting, "I always respected the man as an amazing fighter, but apparently he isn't much of a teacher."

Very few audience members dared to snicker at that insult, and Brock was quick to spit back vehemently, "How dare you insult my Master, you Gutter trash!"

Alonso also dropped his shame to hop forth beside his comrade, holding out a fist to reiterate, "Yeah you stinking creep, why don't you come down here and say that?!"

Uqba simply chuckled at the duo, blatantly unimpressed by their threats. Reining in his laughter with a long breath and relenting sigh, he offered arrogantly, "Now, now, I don't believe a King should have to leave his mountain to deal with insolent peons down below. If you want to start something, then climb your sorry asses up here and bring it!" Stern faced and standing in a challenging pose, he awaited the reply.

It came instantly. "You got it!" Brock rushed forward shocking friends and strangers alike as he tried to blaze a path through the jungle of reporters in his way. Most hurried out of the rampaging youths way, while security guards moved in to block his progress. With trained ease, the blue suited guards were flipped, dodged and shoved aside by Sabin's eldest student. As he closed in on the imposing form of Uqba, who glared down upon him from the edge of the stage, the other Blitz students tensed in worry.

"That stupid hothead, he's gonna get arrested!" Alonso grumbled through clenched teeth. Beside him Carina looked to Gau to ask him to do something, and gaped at the empty spot beside her, as he was already gone. Quickly perusing the crowd, she barely caught a glimpse of his nimble figure weaving around the side of the crowd, his feline form easily progressing to the front.

Uqba let a chortle rise in his throat as Brock made the last five yard dash. The pony-tailed warrior's fist discreetly clenched in ready as his forward stance held ready. With amazing power, Brock leapt to the air, flipping his body forward in propulsion more then ten feet in the air, His right foot lashed forth, aimed squarely at Uqba's grinning face. However, it never made it further than Gau's forearm. Brock flinched in surprise as his schoolmate blocked him from the armored youth. Easily righting himself to land on a crouch before the stage, he looked up to Gau's stern red eyes. He also had just regained his footing and was pulling one hand from behind his back before hopping down from the stage. Glaring at him, Brock insisted, "What're ya getting in my way for?! He insulted me and Master Sabin!"

Looking down at the older boy with almost uncharacteristic clarity, Gau spoke, "Yer insulting thuh Master too." Brock was aghast at the accusation as he sprung to his feet. "thuh Blitz Fist School duz teach power. But is meant ta be power with control. If you show no control, yer disrespecting the whole school." Brock's expression softened slowly in understanding. Silently he looked over Gau's head to the glaring face of Uqba, and turned away in tired aggravation. Storming off back through the crowd, Gau followed after them, while several of the reporters fired off questions to the passing Brock about the apparent rivalry and a few others made open comments about the unknown blond boy's gutsy act to get between them and how lucky he was that he didn't find Uqba's steely fist through his gut. The dark haired, dark skinned, dark armored and currently dark expression bearing, fighter on stage seemed less skeptical as he stared angrily after the back of the smaller, wild haired boy, recalling the recent event. Uqba's armored fist was cocked and ready to meet the loudmouthed Brock's weaker foot and crush it. The mane of greenish blonde hair which then blocked his vision seemed to come from nowhere it was so fast, and before he could even complete his punch, Uqba's mighty fist was stopped, by a hand idly drawn up behind the blond's back to catch it. Watching them leave, and having never even saw the interloper's face, Uqba was seriously doubting Brock's claim as Sabin's top student.

* * *

"That Creep!" Brock swore as he kicked an errant aluminum can out of the way with unnecessary force. "I'm going to beat him at the tournament! You guys just wait and see."

"Sure, man… whatever you say…" Alonso tiredly humored his aggravated friend while adjusting the cap on his lowered bald head.

Brock stopped and glared back as Alonso casually strolled by. With a growl which echoed in the back alley they passed through, Brock suddenly pounced the younger boy from behind catching him by surprise in a headlock, while protesting, "Don't say it like that, ya jerk! I'm gonna beat your sorry ass at that competition too!" Brock laid in with a fury of noogies to which Alonso groaned in annoyance of.

Twisting his body and slipping his head free of his senior's gripping arm, Alonso landed a disciplining slap to the back of Brock's neck before straightening up to regain his cool façade. "As if you could beat me, ya worthless muscle head."

Staring to Brock's still back, it was a moment before the burly boy looked grimly back over his shoulder and announced deathly serious, "It's better to be a muscle head… than a skunk head." Sticking out his tongue to Alonso, Brock waved the smaller boys cap in the air, quickly alerting him to the fact that his stripe bruised scalp was in view.

"Hey…! Give it back!" Alonso rushed to grab it, and Brock was already on the run playing keep away.

A ways behind them Carina and Gau lazily followed. The former shook her head woefully at the sight of the goofing off, chastising them from a far, "Can't you guys at least show some maturity?" Sighing heavily, she suggested to her self, "I need to get new friends." Strolling along, with her head hung, she looked to the shadows on the ground trailing before them, and noticed one strangely still and straight. Glancing back she found Gau in the same oddly pensive silence he'd been in since they left the Arena. Knitting her fine brows in thought, she asked him in probing, "You've been really quiet. Is something wrong?" Still walking on, his hands in his pockets, Gau simply looked up to her and gave an assuring nod. There was no emotion to his usually expressive face though. Worried, she persisted, "Are you sure. Ever since you stopped Brock back there you've been acting… strange. Are you mad at him?"

Shaking his head finitely, he assured, "No, he was just… angry." Carina seemed to accept the answer, or at least she couldn't think of anything else to say. So they followed along after their friends. It was a long moment before Gau broke the silence again. It was in a low voice so that only Carina would hear him ask, "Is Ugba really strong nuff ta be in thuh pros?

Looking back to him, Carina blinked thoughtfully, wondering why he'd come up with such a question. Shrugging she answered honestly as she could, "Uqba may be a self-centered jerk, but… yeah… he's pretty tough. I fought him once before in a preliminary for last years annuals, remember? He beat me pretty easy." Her voice trailed off with regret, for a moment before picking back up with interest, "Why do you ask.?"

Gau cocked his head in that feline way of his, and he spoke back vaguely, "It's just… sumthin' I wanna know."

* * *

"Hot-headed little brats." The Baron grumbled, as his stout figure entered into the private sitting room. "Shameful, the way they interrupted the press conference." He plopped onto a leather couch as one of the maids brought over a glass of scotch for him. He offered her a customary, "Thank you." Then turning back to his Coliseum manager, head promoter and star talent, the Baron added off-hand, "Of course, all that hype will probably bring up ticket sales. Not as much as if a stronger opponent had given the challenge, but we can't really help that right now."

Thadius Ringlet, head promoter of the South Figaro Arena, a short, slender man, ever in a fine suit and over sized black horn rim glasses, gave an amused smirk, hypothesizing aloud, "If we had gotten the challenge a few weeks ago, we could have rigged his last few matches, made him look like a monster competitor." Shaking his head in disappointment, he relented, "It would've been a great show."

"You mean a great charade." The dark-skinned young warrior scoffed as he stared out the panel window to the arena floor below. "The moment I got in the ring with him-" Turning his head back, he emphasized, "-and that is if he actually made it up to me. I would make short work of him, then people would just want their money back." He could practically sense Ringlet's mouth open to make a comment. "And no, I would never hold back just to make him look good."

"Heh. An honorable warrior…? What're ya gonna do?" Volga gave a sigh as the maid refilled his glass. "It's really too bad though. You're spotless amateur career is coming to an end. It would have been nice for you to have some kind of worthwhile send off." Taking a quick sip of his scotch, he licked his lips and looked up to find Uqba staring back at him. "What? It's your own fault insisting on moving up all of a sudden."

"The boy out there- Who was he?" The serious tone of the fighter caught the Baron's attention.

"You mean that Brock kid? You said you remembered him."

"No, not him." Uqba shook his head as he turned round to speak directly with Volga. "The other one, the one who got between us- Who is he?" Volga just stared back silently for a moment. Only breaking their gaze to finish off his drink and hand the empty glass off to the maid.

Gradually he looked back to Uqba to break the prolonged silence, "Why do you want to know that?"

Tilting his head askew, he cited plainly, "I can believe that these idiots missed it." He fingered toward the manager and promoter and continued, "But there's no way you didn't see it. He blocked my punch. He wasn't even looking at me, and he only used one hand, and he blocked **My Punch**." The last two words were punctuated in stern disbelief. "So, who is he, and why have I never seen him before? He seems to be one of Sabin's students, and he looked young enough to be fighting in the junior classes."

Sighing deeply, Volga assured the boy, "You're right. He's never participated before."

Once more the young man demanded, "You know who he is?"

Shrugging the Baron answered, "I know of him. Yes. But what does it matter?"

"I want to fight him."

Even though he knew the declaration was coming, the Baron groaned, "Why would you want to fight a no name rookie, just because he caught a lucky block?"

"Bull! That was not luck and you know it." Uqba argued back angrily, "Now, tell me who he is. Tell me!" He demanded fiercely and even the manager and promoter looked to Volga in curiosity.

Looking among the waiting faces, Volga resigned with a nod. He took no hurry in relaxing back into his seat and draining another sip of his expensive liquor before speaking, "Back during the war against Kefka, you know about the heroes of the Returners, right?" Only a slight pause was offered for the rhetorical, as he went on, "You know, the major players, Terra Bradford, the Figaro Brothers, Locke and Celes, Setzer and old man Strago. But some members of that group were never really talked about after the war. Like there was an assassin and a moogle. I even heard they had a yeti fighting with them." With a snicker, he shook his head as he mused on the heroes of their world. Meanwhile, Uqba moved to a seat across the coffee table from the Baron to listen. Looking to the boy, he spoke on more seriously, "There were also a couple of kids. One was that artist girl, Relm. Heck, who doesn't know her nowadays? But the other… well…- He was a boy barely into his teens, who was supposedly tough enough to go toe-to-toe with Sabin himself." The room was silent as the path of the Baron's tales became clear. "They were said to have found him living out on the Veldt. He was raised by monsters and fought with ferocious instinct. In combat, he would go into a kind of enraged trance, and he'd tear through his enemies with his bare hands. He fought with them all the way to the end, to the defeat of Kefka himself." Relaxing with an exaggerated breath, the Baron finished the tale somberly, "After the war, he took up as Sabin's student. I have approached him before about bringing the kid into the fighting world, but Sabin always refused. In other words, he's not fighting, so get over it."

The room was still, as the listeners processed this new information. Volga gestured to the maid for another drink, and she was just bringing over the glass and bottle when Uqba spoke up once more. "It has to be him." Volga just shot him a glare, as the boy went on, "If he's really so strong, then he's the only one I can test myself against before going into the professional world. You have to get me this match!"

Shaking his bald head, Volga tried reasoning, "Why? You've proven yourself plenty over the years. You're ready, and you're going to have a great professional career. Don't get stuck up on something stupid like this."

"No! I have to know." He insisted as he pounded an iron clad hand to the marble top of the table. "You held me back a year from debuting in the pro world, to make sure I was tough enough and to ensure a huge draw when I crossed over. And through it all, I never had one challenge. I just faced one weak competitor after another, and now that a real challenge has appeared, I want to take it!"

"What challenge?" Volga bit back at the young fighter, "The only challenge was from that loud-mouth who tried to attack you. Did Gau threaten you? Did he even look at you? Don't go fantasizing some great rivalry over some brat that you've never even seen face to face."

"I never said anything about a rivalry! I just want to fight him!"

"And what if you lose?" The words came like a live grenade tossed into the room. Every eye turned to Volga in shock of the prospect. "Think it over. This kid was fighting in the war for the world while you were still getting beaten on by the bigger kids in my gym. The reputation you've built here could go to hell in an instant if you make this challenge and lose."

"Then I won't lose." Uqba stared back at his master; fire burning in his dark eyes.

Volga gave a wearied sigh as he set down his glass without taking a sip and lounged back to avoid the boy's steeled gaze. "You know…" Ringlet's sharp voice butted into the Baron's pensive moment. "Advertising a brawl between the Wild Child of the Returners and our boy Uqba, would shoot up ticket sales." The Baron just sighed deeper at the words and closed his eyes to think.

* * *

"What's wrong with you?" Master Sabin peered across the table to his pupil. Gau glanced up from the knot in the wooden top of the table that he'd been staring at for the last ten minutes. "You've barely touched your stew. I've never known you to let food get cold." The blond man stared curiously to the boy that he'd raised for several years and still barely understood.

The former wild boy just gave a meek shrug as he lifted his spoon that had been left to soak in broth. Stirring the bowl's contents idly, he responded with surprising opposition, "You've been quiet too. Ya usually talk through thuh entire meal." His gruffly accented voice held a pitch of curiosity as he looked to his master.

Sabin gave a relenting chortle for his student's attention. Nodding in agreement, he reminisced casually, "Yeah, yeah. Edgar payed me a visit early today." Gau cocked his head at word of the esteemed King and former ally. "He sends his regards." The brief comment was punctuated as Sabin lifted his bowl to sip some broth.

Gau waited patiently for further information, as his master savored his food. After a long moment, he finally pondered aloud, "And…?"

"Hm?" Looking back to the boy, Sabin shook his head assuring, "Nothing. He just dropped by on his way to catch a boat to Nikeah." Gau peered appraisingly back, suspicious of something more which would silence his typically loud-mouthed master. Feeling the predatory eyes on him, Sabin spoke finally, "He talked about some political affairs that I was thinking over. That's all. It's nothing for you to worry about, kid." From the corner of his eye Sabin saw Gau give a quick nod and return to eating. He always accepted his master's words at face value, and this was no exception. Still not satisfied with his student's strange behavior though, Sabin continued, "Now, what's your excuse?"

Quirking one brow and chewing the inner side of his lip, Gau looked back unsurely. Reaching up to scratch his head of untamed hair, he answered evasively, "I went to thuh Arena with thuh others today."

That caught Sabin's attention. Peering back at his student, he probed, "What for? There aren't any matches until tonight."

"Well…" He searched for the right words, unsure if he could find them with his limited vocabulary. "Brock wanted ta go."

"What for?"

Gau gave a shrug of feigned disinterest as he replied, "There was a confrance thing."

"What was it about?" Sabin listened raptly for what had his student acting so strange.

"It was that Uqba guy." Gau risked a glance to the crew cut man's eyes to note any recognition, and continued, "He said that he was … moving up … to thuh pros."

"Oh." Beginning to understand the same old argument approaching, Sabin returned his attention to his stew.

"Master…?" Unfortunately, now that he had started, Gau wasn't quite finished. "Is he really strong 'nuff? Uqba I mean."

Letting out a long sigh as he rolled his eyes in though, Sabin finally gave a half nod, consenting, "Hard to say. The kid's pretty tough. Strong build. Great instincts. But nobody's really seen his true potential. Nobody but his trainers and maybe some choice sparring partners." Gau looked to Sabin quizzically, and the teacher needed no further excuse to educate. "In the Junior classes, there are a lot of safety restrictions to prevent serious injury. You can't use real bladed or heavy bludgeoning weapons, unless you are in one of the specific venues, like the bushido leagues. Offensive spell casting can only be used in specific leagues and competitions. Even Ki-based assaults, such as our school's Aura Bolt or Fire dance are banned. So specialist fighters generally have to come up through specialized junior leagues, which are very competitive or underground leagues which are extremely dangerous. The South Figaro Fighter League is purely hand-to-hand combat, so Uqba's never used those metal gauntlets of his in the ring, and he's never shown any of the Ki attacks, which I'm sure Volga has taught him. In other words, I can't be sure of his strength. But if Volga says he's ready. I'm sure he is. Old man knows what he's doing." Gau seemed to comprehend, and Sabin spooned a bit of steaming potato and broth to his mouth to blow on. As he took the food into his mouth, he almost choked as the next question came.

"Is he stronger than me?" The teenager watched his mentor clear his throat, chew his food and take his time to swallow before answering.

"I don't know. It's possible. But it doesn't really matter." Gau's head cocked to one side for the explanation, "Strength isn't your problem. You are tough enough to go into the fighting world. Not strong enough to be a champion yet, but you could be a contender." The boy grinned at the approval, but knew what was coming, "I still worry about your control though. You've come a long way from your old rage. I don't want to see that all go to hell because you start picking fights that you aren't ready for."

"I know. I know." Gau relented somberly, and they returned to their meals. In bored silence they ate. Until Gau decided to inquire, "Master, will Alonso's skunk-stripe heal before Sadurday?"

* * *

The next morning, Sabin's third class was assembled for session. The dojo taught three classes, two days a week each. class one met Sunday and Wednesday, class two met Monday and Thursday and class three met Tuesday and Friday. Class three was mostly kids, nine of the fifty of which were age seven to thirteen, so these were much easier training days in general. Except when the kids decided to act up. Currently the children had been standing in squatted positions with outstretched arms, as they had been doing for the last five minutes. The older kids were even made to hold buckets of water, just to even it out. Sabin meanwhile paced before his students, glaring at the young students accusingly, as he offered with all the kindness of a tormenting interrogator, "You're all doing very well today. I knew you could follow through with my Super Iron Man Training. And we're going to keep at it until someone confesses for putting ink in my dumplings!" his lips parted in a feral stare down. The unnaturally blackened teeth of their master had a few of the boys and girls snickering regardless of the shivering and sweating tired bodies. "Do I have to add more water to those buckets? Or maybe some of you young'uns need buckets as well." Sabin barked at them, and the snickering stopped except for one. Glancing back over his shoulder he found Gau quickly quieting and averting his gaze from Sabin, while kneeling to check on the condition of one of the smaller boys. Looking back among the punished children, the blond instructor spoke in assurance, "Don't worry, we have hours to work and plenty of water to go around." Groans and whines passed among the children, who feared a worse fate for insubordination.

"Gau! Gau!" The call from outside was followed seconds later by the familiar face of Carina, as she ran in waving a newspaper at the boy. "I can't believe it." She stopped before him, breathing a bit heavy from a long jog. "Are you really going to…?"

"What are you doing here?" Sabin demanded of her. "I told you and your idiot classmates to take the day off to rest for the tournament."

Nodding as she caught her breath, the replied, "I know. It's just …" Catching sight of the burdened children, she was sidetracked to ask, "What are you doing to these kids?"

"Training." Sabin answered concretely." Now what are you doing here?"

Carina shook her head of the disturbing images around her and focused on the reason for her visit. Holding up the Newspaper she had brought, she showed the headline to Sabin and Gau, explaining, "When I read it, I just had to come see if it was true." Both leaned in to read, before Sabin grabbed the paper away to read further.

"**The Iron Fist set to fight the Wild Child"**

Jaw clenched and eyes in a heavy stone glare, Sabin read off the article, "This reporter was witness to the spectacle, as the young Returner Hero, Gau rose from the crowd to oppose the fist of Uqba. In a flash of martial prowess, the Wild Child was able to put himself between his own classmate and the Iron Fist, nullifying both attacks with ease. Though he was not identified by the reporters present, we at the Gaia Chronicles were alerted of Gau's identity, along with the exclusive notification of Uqba's intent to challenge Gau to compete in this Saturday's tournament. The Junior Figaro Fighter League Champion was quoted as proclaiming, "After hearing of whom that boy was I knew that it was destiny that I meet him here and now. He will be my last great challenge before I ascend to the professional world"." Looking up from the article to his first student, Gau just stared back wide-eyed at his stern master. "You better have a good explanation for this."

"I-I swear, I didn't do nuthin." Gau tried to explain himself, regardless of double negatives.

"Really, Master, it was Brock that rushed the stage." Carina backed him up, "Gau was just trying to keep him from getting the school in trouble by starting a public fight."

"Yeah, I didn't even say nuthin' to Uqba."

Looking between his students appraisingly, Sabin relented with a haggard groan, "You kids shouldn't have been there to begin with. You were just inciting them. Do I teach you to go around antagonizing people?"

"No, master." Gau and Carina answered in practiced unison.

"Me and Brock are going to have to have a little talk about his behavior."

"Try not to be too hard on the boy." The tenor voice came from the doorway, where now stood the red robed figure of Baron Volga. Adjusting his glasses, he noted begrudgingly, "After all, Uqba did a good deal of the antagonizing."

"You have a lot of guts coming here after this." Sabin deemed, as he waved the paper at the Baron. "I've told you before that Gau wasn't joining the league. Did you think this would really get us to accept?" The younger martial master stared to the older man who rested against his doorway.

Volga shook his head woefully and tried to calm the younger man, "This all a misunderstanding, Master Figaro. May we please speak, and I'll try to explain?"

Sabin stared back at the stout man firmly. Taking a moment to think it over, he finally turned to his students and ordered, "You're in luck. You've all just earned a reprieve. Class dismissed." The children practically dropped their buckets along with the rest of their bodies, as they all cast off their water weights and went about rubbing their sore parts. "Gau, see to the kids." Exiting the dojo, Sabin gestured for the Baron to follow. "Come. We'll speak in the house."

As the masters departed, Volga's one question could be heard, "What happened to your teeth?"

Meanwhile, Gau and Carina saw to the aching, groaning children. Sorrowfully, she rubbed the exhausted muscles of one of the eight year olds legs, as she pondered aloud, "Does he really have to be so hard even on children."

Sniffling back some tears, the boy in her care agreed, "Yeah, Master Sabin's a big jerk!"

"It's your own fault for putting in the ink in his food." Gau cited plainly.

"I did not." The boy tried to deny, but Gau's exceptional nose was already sniffing at the air and quickly zeroed in on the boy. Grabbing one of his hands, he turned it over to reveal tell-tale black smudges. The other children glared at him, and he hurried to confess, "My Brother made me do it." He pointed to his older brother, who stared back dumbly over his buckets, just before receiving a punch to his sore arm by one of his classmates.

"Oww!" "Jerks!" "You Creeps!" "This is all your fault!" "My body hurts all over." "I want Mommy!"

"Enough already!" Carina quieted them quickly as she went back to caring for the fatigued. "We'll have to borrow Master Sabin's wagon to get them home. I don't think some of them can make the walk."

Gau just nodded in agreement as he rubbed the pains from one younger boy's legs. He had that faraway look in his eyes again though, and Carina wasn't really sure about calling him on it. So, she remained silent. One of the older boys though, gladly spoke up. "Hey, Gau, are you really going to fight Uqba?"

"Yeah, are you?" "That would be so cool!" "Gau would kick his butt for sure." "Nah, Uqba's the champ. He's strong." "Gau's stronger." "Yeah, he would so win!" "Right, Gau?" "Right?"

"From every side, the kids were calling their opinions to him, and like a curious crow his head bobbed back and forth, but he didn't answer.

* * *

"It was Uqba's doing." Volga admitted to Sabin, who poured the older fighter a cup of tea. "After Gau got in his way, the boy was instantly obsessed. He gets like that some times. It's a bad habit for a teacher to have to deal with." Volga took the offered cup gratefully. "Thank you."

Sabin poured his own tea, agreeing idly, "I know what you mean. It was my student's misbehavior which started this mess after all."

Volga sighed as he swirled his cup to stir the contents. "The arrogant drive of youth; it is a good thing for a fighter some times. I just wish the boy would think once in a while. The little brat went right to the press with his challenge, right after I told him to drop it. Guess he figured that the public berating would be too much to ignore."

"What berating? It only said he wanted to fight Gau." Sabin inquired as the Baron sipped his tea.

Volga simply asked back, "Did you read the whole article?"

Quickly retrieving the paper from nearby on the floor, Sabin skimmed to the end, reading aloud, "The Champion went on to criticize the Blitz Fist School and its students. Citing that never have any one of them held a title or even offered him an even fight. Gloatingly he offered, "I thought this would be a great chance for them to redeem themselves with their best product"." Staring to the Baron in a huff, the younger admonished truthfully, "He is quite the jackass."

"I know. He can be a real pain." Volga lifted his cup, but stopped to reconsider idly, "He goes over pretty big with kids though. Go figure." Enjoying a sip of the green tea, Volga let out a satisfied breath, then turned his eyes back to Sabin, "Anyway, when I read the paper, I knew you wouldn't take it well, so I hurried over to explain."

"Thank you for your concern, Baron. I know that you are an honest man. Even though your student is a self-centered little creep."

Volga shrugged in consolation. He couldn't argue the fact, but he did try to amend his statement. "True, but I apologize for him, if that means anything. I'm also going to have to apologize for my next words." Volga set down his cup and straightened in his seat to speak clearly, "Master Figaro, I ask you now to reconsider Gau's entrance." Sabin just raised a brow as he stared back with typical stoic expression. The Baron, tried to plead his case. "Since that headline ran this morning, ticket sales have shot up immediately. Fans are almost as anxious to see this one Junior level fight as a Professional championship match. If Gau doesn't show up, there will be a lot of very angry spectators."

"That isn't our problem, Baron."

"I know it isn't, but this is something you should think over." Volga advised as he hunched forward. "Think of the reputation of your gym if you refuse this challenge. It would seem a cowardly act, and bad press will come quickly. Shrugging off a challenge from the Junior Champion himself might even be misconstrued as scoffing the entire Figaro Fighter League. Your students may find themselves being denied matches in the near future. Circuit scouts may snub them."

"We'll have to take that chance." Sabin firmly accepted as he picked up his tea cup. "If one simple act will bring such harm, then that is simply unfortunate."

Volga watched the younger fighter sip his tea calmly, and nodded in understanding. "You will do as you must. I hope things turn out alright for you in the end." They sat and drank their tea. No more words to waste, they just relaxed in this midday break.

Footsteps led in from the patio, where Gau strolled in to take a seat near by, addressing the older men, "Carina left with thuh kids; took yer cart and chocobo ta bring dem home. She'll bring it back later."

Sabin nodded back, "Alright. You can take a break too."

"Yes, Master." Gau sat pensively for the moment, chewing his lip. Obviously he was pre-occupied.

"Yes, Gau?" Sabing asked, already knowing what was on the boy's mind.

Bowing, he declared predictably, "Master, I wanna accept thuh challenge." Volga glanced from student to teacher. Sabin just took a deep breath.

After a brief pause, Sabin spoke, "I've told you before that you're not ready."

"I know, but … I herd what ya two were saying bout thuh trubbles refusin' could bring thuh gym." He admitted and Sabin did not seem surprised; well aware of the boy's acute ears. He didn't even bother to acknowledge the reason with a response, since he knew Gau had already heard his answer to the Baron. But Gau continued, "Besides. Master … I wanna prove I'm ready." Sabin turned a steely gaze to the boy, who remained bowing obediently. Humbly he pleaded, "Uqba is goin' inta thuh pros, and you said Volga wouldn't led him do it if he wasn't ready. But he's still in juniors. If I can fight him and keep control, then it proves I'm ready. Or ad least I'm close."

Volga gave a short chortle, commenting from aside, "The boy is determined. What do you say, Master Figaro?"

"Please, Master. Please." Gau begged to his Master, who silently sat, sipping his tea as he thought things over.

* * *

"What the hell is this?!" Brock exclaimed as he read the article.

"It's a newspaper." Alonso replied in smart-ass tone. "It has words printed on it describing current events. Do you need me to read it to you?"

"Shut up!" The older larger youth shouted, and the bald boy followed command quickly as he noted his friend's anger. "I can't believe this." He settled against the alley wall, reading over the story. "I make a scene. I challenge Uqba, and Gau gets written about? What the hell is this?!"

Alonso offered in consolation, "They mention you."

"Oh yeah- " Brock began reading from the article, "Gau courageously leapt in to save his classmate, **_Brook_**, from Uqba's mighty fist." With a growl, Brock tore the paper in two, crumpling the ends in his fists. "They didn't even get my name right! And I didn't need saving. Uqba was the one going down!"

"Yeah... right." Alonso sarcastically spoke out of habit. As Brock glared daggers at him, practically breathing steam, Alonso gulped in response and tried to amend, "I mean, of course you had him beat. No challenge." Little comforted by the forced assurance; Brock tossed the torn paper aside and stomped off down the alley. Alonso shook his capped head in worry, "I don't see this turning out well."

* * *

Uqba sat staring out the observation window of the Owner's suite, watching the Arena's Friday afternoon bouts as he dictated a message to a steward on hand, "If he does not face me then it only proves that my statements about their school were true. Sabin's students are simply too weak to compete." Grinning to the man who took the note down, Uqba ordered, "Have that delivered to the station immediately. I want it broadcast as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir." The steward gave a bow ready to follow through, before ordered otherwise.

"Don't bother." Volga called out as he strolled in to his suite. "There's no more reason to antagonize. You already got your way."

The dusk skinned fighter sat up anxiously. "You mean …?"

"Yeah, brat." Volga looked in his disciple's eyes as he answered, "Gau has agreed to fight. Tomorrow, you get what you asked for." Turning to walk away, he added in after though, "I just wonder if it will really be what you want."


	2. is never easy

_I take the liberty of filling in what gaps the game leaves to put in what history and reasoning best fits with my imagination. Though I'll try to stay true to the gameworld, I may take some liberties based on my own point of view. Do let me know if I go over board though_

* * *

**Duelist's Law**

**Chapter 2: … is never easy.**

**-Lunauc**

"One thousand years ago, the War of the Magi, left the world in ruins, from which the Figaro Kingdom was born. Over the centuries, this land has seen invasions, vandal raids, and all out war. Six centuries ago the assassination of the beloved Queen Melany, thrust the country into bloody civil war. Two hundred years ago, the Pliates Tribes ravaged half the villages in the Kingdom in their war against technology. Then just five years ago, we faced occupation by the horrible Empire. Now this day, we bring you one more great war on Figaro's soil. I welcome you to this, the Third Annual Figaro Kingdom Junior Fighters Grand Tournament!" The lights flooded back on, bathing the ring, as the Arena near shook with the ruckus explosion of applause and cheers from the packed seats. In the center of the Ring stood a man in a flamboyant feathered red coat, with spiked, green and blue dyed hair and a strangely painted face. He held forth his arms, calling for more applause, and he was answered, "I, Kujaku-Taishou, shall be your master of ceremonies and I promise you a great portrait of glory will be painted here today in the blood and sweat of these young fighters! Are you ready!" The sound was deafening as the spectators cried back their eagerness. Waving banners, beating drums and calling chants of their favorite fighters, many even sent forth a wave of boisterous bird squawks, which the announcer proudly replied with his own lively trademark Peacock Cry. "Yes! Yes! Yes! I feel your passion my chickadees, and I can't deny you. We have thirty-two mighty Duelists ready to show there mettle in thirty one consecutive, action packed, winner take all, single elimination battles. By this night's end, the one who remains standing shall hold the title of Champion of the Figaro Junior Fighter's league!" Another series of fierce bird squawks cleared the announcer's seemingly bottomless throat as he pumped his fist, practically pumping up the exhilaration of the fans in effigy. "I can't wait either. So, lets get this blood fest underwaaaaaAAAAAYYY!" The orchestrated chaos rushed among the gathered and Kujaku gave a flourishing spin and exaggerated bow for his performance. This already had the makings of a good day."

* * *

"Wow… they really came out in droves this year." Carina stood at the eastern ring entrance way, staring among the hyped crowd. "Usually the Junior tournament only gets about half this many attendees. But this place is jam packed." She glanced back to her Master, Sabin, who reclined against the stone wall.

He glanced out to the Peacock's pep performance as he retorted plainly, "I guess the Baron wasn't exaggerating about the ticket sales." Shaking his head he sourly digressed, "Gau's really made this thing into a spectacle. I shouldn't have agreed."

"It's hard to believe that Gau could draw this many people. I mean, his background may be… amazing… but he's never really struck me as destined for popularity."

"Hmph, true, the kid doesn't exactly exude charisma." Sabin scoffed at the notion of the Wild Child's fifteen minutes of fame. "However, challenges like this aren't made every day, even among the pros. Then you add in an idol young fighter like Uqba's retirement from the Junior circuit and the Gau's, as you said, amazing background, and you have the makings of a publicity fiasco." He stepped away from the wall, strong arms crossed as he noted aloud, "Radio announcements have been going since yesterday. Today, the proclaimed grudge match between the two of them is the front page in every local release. It's a shame really." A bitter sigh passed his lips as he looked to his female senior. Wearily he offered. "I'm sorry. Because I agreed to this, your tournament today has been completely run amuck."

Grinning to her mentor, Carina tried to console him, "Don't worry, Master Sabin. We're still here to fight and I for one plan to do my best to take that title home, even if I have to go through Gau to do it." She flexed her slender but defined bicep as she gave an assuring grin and wink.

"Heh… I believe that you will." Sabin reached out to pat her on the shoulder. "You're gonna be first up for us. Make the school proud."

"You know I will, Master." She gave a brief bow as Sabin seemed to let some of his tension pass for now.

* * *

"Now, now, sorry to slow things down. But lets get the boring rule nonsense out of the way." Kujaku rolled his eyes as he begrudgingly made the announcement. Then gesturing to his right, a spot light caught on a middle aged man in a black and white striped robe, trimmed in golden embroidery. The painted crier introduced him thusly, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Senior Official Dolan Rembrandt shall now give the rules of this tournament. So listen close, cause I ain't stopping again!" The loud, multi-colored man unceremoniously handed off his microphone to the entering official.

"Thank you, Kujaku. I'll make this brief." Dolan adjusted his glasses in habit and moved right into his explanation. "Today's matches shall be single elimination fights. The winner advances to the next level until we have our champion. If you look in your programs you'll see that the fighters are separated into four blocks, with 8 participants in each block, A through D. The winner of the A block will fight the winner of B block, the winner of C will like ways face the D block winner. The two finalists will then compete for the Championship. Basic Junior League rules apply. There will be no metal or bladed weapons, magical attacks or high level ki attacks permitted. Battles continue until one opponent either submits, is thrown from the ring or simply can no longer fight. Violations will result in disqualification. All that said. Let's get this ride rolling along. Kujaku…?"

The feather decorated man happily grabbed back his microphone, hugging it tight to his chest. "Oh… my precious loud maker, never leave me again." A forlorn expression graced his made up countenance, before he grimaced and stopped to wipe the head of the microphone on his jacket. "Eeeewww… and I can't lend it to spitters anymore." A brief chuckle passed among the crowd, while Dolan turned back to jokingly flip off the clownish announcer. "Anyhow, it's just about time that we started our first fight. Don't you all think?" He took a moment to appreciate the swell of cheers that rose in response, and nodding along, he agreed, "Yes, definitely. Let's begin. First we must call out the only man who I can think to properly christen this competition. Figaro's Shining Young Hope, a temperamental force of nature, the Desitned Duelist, your Champion and mine, the One, the Only, Iron Fist UQBAAAAA!" The crowd exploded in cheers as the Arena went dark, save for a single beacon, focused on the Northern corridor, where the promised young fighter made his entrance. A chant of his name, passed among the fans as he strolled up into the ring. Garbed in a black satin robe, lined in silver trim, he proudly made his way to center stage. "Oooooohhh… you're looking fine today champ." Kujaku compliment as Uqba shrugged off his robe to present bare, powerful arms and his chiseled body in a pair of black shorts. Handing his robe off to Kujaku the announcer continued praisingly, "I'd offer you good luck, but I think your opponents are going to need it a bit more." The Champion gave a mildly amused chuckle but made no grand gestures. Until Kujaku decided to drag it out of him, "Do you have anything to say to your fans today, Champ?"

Cheers of encouragement sounded and Uqba looked about the fans before turning to the boisterous announcer to nod. The microphone was held out to him and he spoke in assurance. "My friends, today I promise you something special. After all these silly preliminaries are out of the way, I will show you one great battle. Here I shall compete with my strongest challenge ever and for you I shall give my all to bring you victory!" His noble fist rose to the sky as the fans cheered their arrogant hero on.

"Oooooo.. I can't wait. I can't wait." Kujaku-Taishou gave a twirl, dancing about like an anxious child. Suddenly straightening himself, he relented, "But I digress. We have a long way to go before we reach that pinnacle bout. And there are plenty of juicy fights from now 'til then to feed our appetites for destruction. Now let's bring out the first sacrifice… er… challenger." Kujaku pointed back to the North corridor where another young fighter came out to a much less applauded arrival. A stern faced youth in Loose gray pants and brown leather armbands, came forth, eyes locked on the disinterested champion, as the rambunctious Kujaku rattled off the facts, "Hailing from the other side of the continent along the western edge of the great desert, a student of the Blistering Wind school of martial combat, this brave warrior comes to us with an undefeated battle record for this year. Here for your blood thirsty pleasure, I give you, Mertin Miranette." A customary applause sounded as the fighter rose his hands. Grinning almostly lewdly, Kujaku-Taishou gave an eerie laugh. "They look ready. So ring that bell, and get them going." He squawked out his peacock cry as he hopped down from the ring. Simultaneously the round caller hammered at the ceremonial bell and match was underway.

* * *

"After all these silly preliminaries are out of the way…. nya, nya, nya…" Childishly mimicking Uqba's words, Brock rolled his eyes in distaste. He stood in the Southern entrance with several other fighters watching the first match of the tournament. Mertin rushed right out of the gate, keeping on the offensive with a flurry of punches and kicks. Uqba had only bothered to dodge and block the assault so far. Brock shook his crew cut head as he viewed, commenting to his peers, "What a jerk. The guy acts like we're just a big nuisance to him. We'll just see ho high and mighty he is after I stomp his sorry ass into the ground."

"Yeah… sure, Brock." A fellow competitor skeptically offered. Slining an army over the taller blitz fighter's shoulder, the brawler added, "I think you're kind of forgetting though, you've gotta go through us before you get to him." He chortled mischievously, while the fighter's behind him pumped their muscles in display and beat their fists threateningly.

Brock gave a meager nod and conceded with mocking tone, "Yes, yes, I suppose I too must go through some silly preliminaries."

"Now who's conceited?" The other fighters rained mock punches and towel snaps at him for his joking arrogance.

"What? Like it's my fault you guys suck so bad?" The young warriors griped and grumbled over Brock's played up ego, but were mostly just amused by it. They were all pretty used to competing with each other and learned to get along out side of the ring. Of course guys like Uqba were the exception. Those who stand above others can only rely on there own strength after all.

One of the fighters spoke up seriously, "Here you guys are gloating about taking Uqba out. But apparently you all forgot that the winner of this block has to face the winner of D block. Most likely that's going to be…"

"Gau." Brock finished the statement stoically. The joking among the combatants ceased as the idea sunk in.

"Damn, Brock… why didn't you ever say you trained with a celebrity?" The same brawler who'd hugged his neck a moment ago asked.

"Gau…? A celebrity…?" Brock questioned back in disbelief. "My Master is Sabin Rene Figaro, the Blitzing Tiger himself, and you guys are impressed by Gau?" Before any of them could even speak back, he continued, "I've known him for a couple of years now. He's two years younger than me and practically half my size. I've never seen him really fight much anyone in that time. Fuck! Most of the time I do see him he just goofs off, and wolfs down junk food. I've never been scared of him before, and I'm sure as hell not going to start now." The others didn't reply. Seeing them just staring off, thinking it over, Brock pressed, "Come on, it's just publicity. He's no stronger than the rest of us."

Finally the same boy who'd brought up Gau in the first place added. "But, he was one of the Returners."

"Yeah, when he was thirteen." Brock scoffed at the logic. "Hell, his great contribution was probably shining their weapons." A few amused snickers passed among the fighters at the image. "Stop screwing around, and just focus on your own…"

"1-2-3!" The fighters froze as the count began from the ring.

"4-5-6-7!" There, Uqba stood casually above the fallen Mertin, who kneeled heaving on the stone floor.

"What the fuck happened!" Brock asked among the others. He'd been so busy joking with them and had missed the very short fight.

"8-9-10! It's over!" The bell sounded to end the match. Kujaku-Taishou stepped back into the ring, proclaiming happily, "Victory: Uqba!"

"No way. It was just one punch." A female fighter reminisced in amazement.

"Whatta ya mean one punch?" Brock demanded.

"I saw it. Uqba only threw one punch." She turned to the others to reply, "He let Mertin throw everything he had at him and made a big show of dodging it all. Then all of a sudden he just squared off and threw one right straight for the chest and down Mertin goes." The Southern hall, C block fighters stared to Uqba as he casually took back his robe and strolled back to the north, while medics rushed in to help Mertin out of the ring, and maintenance men came up to clean up the puddle of mess the desert fighter had vomited up.

Brock stared at the Champion's retreating back, as to the side, one of the others noted aloud, "Alright, I'm back to worrying more about Uqba."

* * *

"Eeeewww… ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, ew, EW. That was disgusting. But Damn! What style our Champion showed. You have to respect that!" The painted announcer praised, though abridged, "-vomit aside of course." A bit of chuckling and giggling circulated as he gravitated about the cleaners, pointing out places they missed.

Meanwhile, back in the Eastern entrance, Carina prepared for her first match. Hair tied back in a braided bun, and dressed in a mandarin style gi of black pants and a blue jacket, the symbol a tiger's paw in a ring of lightning was embroidered to her back; the symbol to their school. As she went through her pre-fight stretches, Sabin waited aside. Seeing the ring almost cleaned, he turned back to his student, "You about ready, kid?"

"I've been ready all morning, Master." She assured as she pulled her arm across her chest to stretch her shoulder.

"We'll just have to see how ready." The stand-offish tone came from an approaching man behind her. In only a pair of red kick boxer's shorts and a shark tooth necklace, he stood near six and a half feet tall and was marked with tribal tattoos, which made him seem a bit more menacing than his teenaged face would suggest. Stepping up beside Carina, he feigningly mimicked her stretching, suggesting amiably, "Don't worry, beautiful. I'll try to only rough you up a little bit."

"You're going to rough me up a little bit?" she retorted sweetly, "I guess that means you'll be trying your hardest, huh?"

The kick boxer gave a short chuckle at her quip, replying sincerely, "Yeah, whatever. Good luck, girl."

"You too, DC." She returned with a quick grin, while her Master shook his head behind her.

Off handedly, Sabin suggested, "You could act a little blood thirsty." She just gave him a look of disapproval to which he shrugged. "It's just a thought."

In the ring, the stage crew was evacuating with their mops and buckets, as the man in the feathered jacket stepped up to speak again, "Yick… lets not have any repeats of that fight. I don't know if could stomach it." He made a show of shivering as he pulled a card from his pocket to read off the next fight. Suddenly his demeanor made a one-eight and a smile graced his red painted lips. "Oh goody, goody, here comes a lovely motivation to my ailing body. For the first participant of our second match, we have a genuine lady here tonight." He took to a regal stance as he chattered, "The heiress of the Tellius Family, a fine example of South Figaro's young nobility, a stunning beauty.." His grew turned lewd and he hunched forward to finish gleefully, "… and God can she kick some ass! From the Blitz Fist School, get that cute butt out here, Carina Tellius!"

She strode into the Arena proudly, and blushing a bit from the praise, as the fans cheered her on, and offered a few cat calls which she tried to ignore. Down in the front row a group of boys and girls, mostly boys, from her prep school held up a banner with her name as they chanted her name. 'It's good to have fans.' She came before Kujaku smiling, and he came at her in a mocking grope-ready stance. She replied with a feebly disciplining chop to his arm, which gave him a great excuse to overact.

"Ow!" He grabbed his "wounded" arm, shying away. "Baby, you hurt so good." She blushed and shook her head as the cat calls poured down. "Lets just hope your opponent is as fond of pain. This South Island fisherman has become one of the top young hopefuls of Figaro's muay thai community. The long-legged lasher, the bronzed bruiser from Bali Bay, I wish you luck, Dellus "The Cyclone" Celden!"

In comes the tall, tattooed young man, accepting his cheers with a bit of waving accepting nods, he stands before Carina who fixes him with a raised brow and a curious spoken thought, "The Cyclone…?"

"I think it fits me." He idly offered as he addressed his fans, with waves and cocky poses.

Carina gave a brief snicker, replying half-sarcastically "Yeah… like a glove." In after thought she added though, "I really have to get one of those nicknames myself though."

"I can think of a few for you." He offered with a wink.

"Nah, I'd prefer a good one." His posing faltered at her dry response and he turned an eye of mock fury to the disinterested girl.

"Well, well…" Kujaku-Taishou sidled up beside Dellus, speaking into his microphone, "You look fit to kill boy. But don't you dare!" The clownish man stepped back to glare at the taller fighter as the crowd began to snicker at his fool's nature, "Harm one hair on our heroine's gorgeous head and face our wrath!" A wave of cries from young men in the audience cascaded down as Kujaku stood forth as if avatar to their combined spirit. That is until Dellus stepped forth to make a show of staring the spokesman down. As the clown shrunk back and the crowd broke out laughing as he held up his hands in jest apparently trying to joke his way out of a beating. Dellus let him aside, smirking mildly, as Kujaku moved over to Carina. Whispering to her, if it could be considered such with a microphone in the way, Kujaku advised, "Carina-baby, remember something." He glanced to Dellus a moment and Carina looked to him curiously. "Use a lot of high kicks and jumping. That'll confuse him for sure." The lewd grin on his face and the re-emerging cat calls from the audience were enough to earn him another glare and chop from the female fighter. "Ouch! Same arm!" He whined woefully as he stalked off rubbing his sore spot. "This fight's already looking bad for my health. Ring the darn bell already!"

The gong sounded to officially begin the match, though the familiar fighters took their time casually squaring off in the center of the ring. With mixed cheers, drums and horn blows from the audience setting the encouraging mood, Dellus achieved an easy grin from his ready stance, calling over to his opponent, "Hey, Carina, I'm feeling pretty tough today. How about a side bet?"

In her own defensive stance, she turned a curious brow up to the taller youth. "Side bet…?"

"Yeah." The crowd called down incomprehensive encouragements for them to start the bout, while Dellus contently conversed, "If I win, I get to take you out on a date. Deal?"

Carina returned a coy grin, "Sure." Her hands shot up to a ready position, as her expression turned serious. "If you win, of course…"

"Of course." He gave a satisfied wink as he shifted his weight to his toes, and readied to move forward. An agreeing nod passed between the two, and then the fight began. Dellus rushed first, stepping in and lashing out with a powerful right leg sweep, which Carina hopped back to dodge. A right jab quickly followed. Carina blocked it easily. A sharp elbow blow rushed in for her open cheek and Carina stepped back to avoid it. Now with some space between them and no immediate forward motion from the Blitzer, Dellus grinned, noting in split-second egotism, "My range…" His long left leg whipped out for a blow to her ribs, and in her defensive position all she could do was take the shot on the arm and try to go with it. The force knocked her aside a step, and the power had her arm stinging, but she had no time to worry as Dellus's right lashed out for her other side. He had power if anything, and she wasn't about to stand there getting kicked. Rolling aside the, his foot barely grazed her back as she took to a shoulder roll to get away. Regaining to a crouched stance, she looked back to see the islander's long legs reaching out for her again. She ducked back from one and skipped back from another. As his long range assault of twisting side kicks progressed, the validity of the "Cyclone" nickname was shown. It was all Carina could do for the moment to fall back and avoid critical blows. Still, she'd catch a couple of well placed kicks, barely blocking them from knocking her down out right.

Dellus' fans sung out his praise, while Carina's called for her to turn the tide. Banner's shook, drums beat and somewhere behind it all, she could swear she was hearing her Master scream, "What the Hell are you doing! Attack him!" Easier said then done of course, as Dellus' lashing legs created a dangerous barrier to cross. With his superior reach and great speed, she wasn't going to get by anytime soon. Another series of sharp kicks for her mid-section had her retreating back, until her heel left the edge of the ring. One more step back and she was disqualified. Dellus wore a blatant smile as he kicked again with his left. This would be the finishing blow…

Or it would have been, if she hadn't decided to brace her self and take the kick. Once more her right arm exploded in pain from a kick worthy of splitting trees, and her toes barely managed to dig into the mat, to keep her in the ring. The pain did purchase her a bit more than momentary salvation though, as the hard impact stopped Dellus' legs for the brief instance. Not about to waste this one chance to claim the pace, Carina led in with her left fist, since the right wasn't ready to function again yet. An uppercut knocked the tall man's head back, denying him the view of her step in. But he sure felt her elbow connect with his chest. Cheers rushed his ears, a lot of which women, as Dellus reeled back, to regain his composure. The Blitz Fist senior knew better than to let an opponent recover though, as she led in with a strong straight kick to his gut and a follow up left hook to the side of Dellus' head. A right knee then quickly came toward his face and in his hunched and dazed position only training and instinct made him lift his arms to block. Knocked back to an upright stance, he quickly readied for an in-fight, even if his consciousness was still shaken. Muay Thai taught toughness first and foremost, and he would be shamed to go down after just one hurried pummeling. He barely parried a fist to the chin and shrugged off a knee to the was coming back strong, but Dellus was still standing. As she stepped in swivel a shoulder blow into his gut, he acted quickly. Grabbed under arms, a quick leg sweep sent Carina sprawling to the side. Spectators shouted their praise and convictions as she was knocked prone. At least she took the fall well enough to keep the air in her lungs. But seeing Dellus bare down on her with an axe kick, she had no time to breathe, only roll to safety. The hard thwack of the kick boxer's stomping feet echoed in the hall as he chased the rolling Carina across the mat. Her heart pounded as she twirled herself side over side, trying to gain distance on the powerful feet which saught her. With just a couple feet of free space, she took her chance. Kicking her legs back, she managed a roll over to her feet and out of Dellus' stomping path. Yet, he quickly switched over to a low kick at her still crouched body. Again all she could do was roll to avoid damage. But this time she got the distance she needed to spring to a stance. Dellus was on her again instantly, and once more in long range his whip-like legs came back into play. Ducking back, from continuous right-left kicks, they were right back to the beginning.

Dellus managed a smile and a wink between groaning twists, his lead assured. Yet as their one sided battle crossed the center of the ring, Carina returned the gesture suddenly. As Dellus' leg flung out for her side, the female fighter set her left heel to the mat and rose up her right. They both felt the pain of the harsh shin on knee contact, as Carina forced her weight into the counter. Dellus tried to stagger back, but, something caught at his waist.

"My turn!" Carina's still numb right hand gripped the leg of Dellus' shorts and tugged hard. It wasn't very probable that she'd be able to pull either of their body weights suddenly in range for her shorter arms to reach. But fortunately, Dellus' bashful instinct helped. When his shorts started to slip down, he reflexively leaned forward to cover up. The stiff arm left to his chin came like a lightning bolt, too sudden to see more than a flash. The next thing he felt was the impact of the mat against the back of his head and shoulders. His mind reeling and eyes stunned by the bright lights above, it took him a second to recall where he was. And by the-

"…6,7,8-" He forced himself over to push his body up to a stance. But, he was barely to his knees when the count ended, "-9, 10! It's over! Victory Carina!" The gong rang and the crowd thundered around them as Dellus slumped down in defeat. Kujaku-Taishou on the other hand, happily ran into the ring, singing praise, "Miss Tellius, I knew you could do it, baby!" Carina triumphantly waved to her fans who cheered down for her, as Kujaku sprung toward her with open arms. "Miss Tellius!" The chop to his arm knocked him staggering aside. "Ow, ow, ow… Same arm!" A wave of chuckles as he rubbed his boo-boo, while Carina moved over to stand before Dellus.

Nonchalantly, she explained, "I want to go out next Friday. Some walking, shopping, a fine dinner and then a show would be nice."

Dellus rose a quirked brow to her request, grinning again, in spite of his victory, "You still want a date even though I lost?"

"Of course." She smiled genuinely and patted his shoulder. "You just won't be there. But I thank you for paying for it." Without another word she bounded off to wave to her fans again, as he sat their groaning doubly pained.

* * *

Among the ranks of the D block fighters he walked like a Lord through a crowd of his peasantry. They cleared a path as they stared at him, murmuring, undoubtedly of him, to each other in his passing. Into the locker rooms he strolled, paying the other youths no mind as he maid his way to his quarry. Into the changing area he came to find a few more fighters who would turn their gaze up to him in surprise, having to pull their gaze from another intriguing personage. This one boy, sat on a bench with his back to the entrant's eyes, sat idly fiddling with something on his ankle as he sat with his legs drawn up onto the bench.

"I must say, I'm getting sick of this view of your back." Uqba spoke from behind Gau, who turned his green-haired head round to see who spoke up. The dusk-skinned warrior's steely gaze met with soft red eyes and a sudden smile from the wild boy.

"Hel'o!" The oddly pleased, mispronounced greeting gained a few gawks from those around him, but Gau spoke undeterred, "S'nice to meet you, Mr. Uqba. I look foword ta our fight!"

The young champion was a bit disarmed by Gau's carefree attitude, but Uqba kept up his superior attitude. "That's good to know… Gau. I was afraid you'd be nervous after seeing my preliminary match."

"I missed it." Gau said plainly, inadvertently faltering Uqba's grin. "Thuh weird guy just kept talking, so I thought there'd be a while til the fight. So I went to get changed."

"Tha-that was twenty minutes ago." Uqba grumbled, "And you're still getting dressed. You really thought you'd make it in time?"

Fiddling with the bandaging bracing his foot and ankle, Gau argued back, "He was real long winded, and these leg wraps're kinda hard to tie." Uqba and the other fighters in the room stared at Gau like an idiot. "Was it a good fight?"

Recovering his stern face, Uqba declared, "Not particularly; my opponent was too weak for me to show my true strength. Even though I let him attack mercilessly, he lacked the skill to hit me even once. When I bored of his pointless efforts, I quickly ended the match. All it took was one punch to the sternum to put him down." Over his raised fist, the champion sneered with pride to Gau.

The wild boy just grinned back, offering in awe, "Wow, you won with only one punch? That's amazing! Yer strong!"

"Yes, I am." Uqba happily agreed, to his all too content prey. "I thought I would be showing you my strength. But apparently I was wrong." Crossing his arms, the champion resigned himself to muse, "Perhaps it was a waste of my time. Given your background, I thought that was a worthwhile feat. Now I wonder if you could even do the same."

"Take a guy out with one punch?" Gau's question came curiously. Glancing down at him, Uqba only grinned and nodded back, "I dunno. I could try."

"Really?" Uqba's interest was piqued. Favorably, he addressed his opponent, "Alright then. I'll be looking forward to your first victory. Try not to disappoint me." Turning away with no salutations, he made his exit.

After him, Gau waved and offered thoughtlessly, "I'll do my best!" The Champion left the room, and Gau returned to fixing his ankle bandages. It wasn't long before another figure was standing over him. Turning a quirked brow up to a tall, strong built young fighter in a green gi, Gau offered politely, "Hel'o."

"So, you'll finish me with one punch, huh?" The determined young man asked indignantly.

"Ooooaaa?"

Dropping to a seat on the bench before Gau, the boy expanded the point. "You just told Uqba that you'd beat your first opponent with a single punch. Well, that's me, Richard Hahn. I'm your first round opponent." He steadied a death glare on the former Returner that had the others in the locker room nervous for the reaction. "So, you're going to finish me with one punch?"

Gau blinked back, chewed his lip and answered with surprising honesty, "I dunno. You look pretty strong. That'd be real tough." The sincerity of his grin was unbelievable, as he stated gladly, "I'll try my best! Good luck to you too!" He held out his hand to shake on it, and Richard just gaped back at him.

"Are you screwing with me?"

"Auooooo?"

* * *

"You're being irrational."

"Oh, I'm being irrational, am I? Why? Because I believe that the people of my community shouldn't be controlled by some far off nation?" Jansum Crier, Mayor and spokesman for the city-state of Mobliz preached to the gathering, "We have worked hard to build this home of ours in such a remote and ravaged land. Yet, we have strived and achieved a respectable place to call our own. Why then should we let it be run by outsiders?"

King Edgar sighed before answering wearily, "Mayor Crier, we're not seeking to control your home. We just want to make sure that it is supported properly until it's developed enough to stand on its own."

"It stands well enough now." The older man noted cynically.

"You know I mean." Edgar insisted as he leaned forward in his seat. Arguments had been going on all afternoon, and it hadn't made things any clearer. Delegates were here from each of the four nations, including Cyan Garamonde and Setzer Gabianni, as well as Jansum and one of his officials from Mobliz. The latter was doing the majority of the arguing. "Mobliz has seen an immense population boom over the last few years. Pilgrims are showing all the time, and your farming city can't provide the food and resources necessary for those citizens without outside help. At least you are not yet, anyway. Putting practicality before pride, please, understand that much."

Jansum rose his bottom lip in an insulted sneer and replied, "Of course I understand our material needs. However, this gratuitous-" His hands flourished as he sought the proper word of complaint, "-occupation by foreign officials is beyond unacceptable. The majority of our citizens come to Mobliz seeking a secluded yet safe home, removed from the hassles and disputes of the rebuilding nations. Your own countries are still rife with property disputes, fluctuating taxation, angered claims of nobility and unresolved tensions from the time of the catastrophe. What makes you all think you can suddenly step in and fix Mobliz's problems when you can't fix your own?"

It was an indisputable fact that many of the worlds wounds had still not healed in the four years since Kefka's fall. Those who had money and power before the catastrophe wanted their privileges returned with the resurrection of their nations. Those who had carved a living in those inhospitable days did not want to give up what life they'd made for themselves simply because law and order intended to return. Many wealthy families lost their lands and titles and many profiteers claimed their own risen class in this new era. The destruction of banks and notaries, mass looting and of course the complete deformation of the land had brought about the global chaos which Kefka had hoped for. Now nearly a half decade later they were still trying to put the pieces back together. None could argue the fact, but they didn't have to listen to it either.

"You old fool…" The grumbled complaint came from Chancellor Jerjerrod; a former Imperial advisor who continues his political works under the New Vector regime. His insult gained him a few displeased glances and a full glare from Jansum. Still he spoke on, "You'd risk the well being of your people over such ridiculous ideals?" He stood from his seat to speak directly at the small city Mayor, "Four years ago, that sociopath nearly destroyed the world. Of course nobody's completely recovered yet! Yet we're suppose to be working together to fix these problems. Why must you be so difficult?"

"That's a very interesting claim, Chancellor." Setzer leaned forward in his seat. Dressed in his typical flamboyant garb, he settled with his elbows on the table, staring to Jerjerrod over bridged hands. "Especially considering that it is New Vector's bid to control Mobliz which brings us here today."

The Chancellor bit back in annoyance, "And what is your excuse for being here Gabianni? Supposedly you are not an official of Jidoor, yet you are here as a representative?"

The gambler gave an aloof shrug, explaining mildly, "President Owzer was too busy with internal affairs to come himself. So, as a Patriot of the Replubic, I am here on his request. Now please explain your reasoning for the need of my presence."

"It is a valid bid." Jerjerrod offered sternly. "After all, the majority of Mobliz's current population have migrated from the New Vector area. Since we share a land mass and already traffic goods along the Peninsula to Mobliz, it makes much more sense for us to be in control of the region rather than Figaro, which is already spread over three continents and is too far away to provide sufficient support."

With a smug grin Setzer opened his arms and proclaimed, "If that's the case, the Republic of Jidoor is just a jump across the sea away and we already control two active ports in the Mobliz Peninsula. I suppose that makes our claim just as valid."

"And Doma lies just to the north, also land connected by our control of Nikeah. Not to mention many of our countrymen have traveled to the south to offer missionary aid." Laila Sigurd, the Doma diplomat, stood beside Cyan, He tended to let her speak rather than get in shouting matches himself.

Again though, Jansum spoke up, "Yes, we have people from all over in our state. But none of you seem to realize that they moved there to get away from all of you." Grumbled complaints passed among the assembly at his bitter declaration.

"Oh, I can attest to that." Jerjerrod scoffed and explained, "A good deal of criminals and former followers of Kefka have come to seek refuge in Mobliz over the years. This we know. And because of your constant claims of 'free domain', they've been for the most part untouchable."

Mayor Crier sneered back as he asked, "I see. So I suppose the first thing you propose, once you claim Mobliz, is to persecute and interrogate the society to smoke out your "wrong-doers"."

"That is not what I am insinuating!" The Chancellor yelled back indignantly.

"That is what I'm foreseeing though. Conquest of the weaker; isn't that what your Imperial upbringing teaches?"

"How dare you!" The words little more than an angered hiss from between Jerjerrod's clenched teeth.

"I dare just fine" Jansum spewed back thoughtlessly to the aggrevated official.

"Gentlemen…?"

"Worthless, ignorant old bastard, you don't understand your own position and you lash out at us for trying to help!"

"Gentlemen..?"

"What help? You're just trying to expand your own territories!"

"Gentlmen!"

"You're just being an incompetent ass!"

"GENTLEMEN!" THUNK The fist pounding to the desk top called attention to the King of Figaro who stood from his seat suddenly. Dark expression and closed eyes, everyone sat waiting his interjection passively. After taking a deep breath, he looked among the delegates, speaking firmly, "This aggression is getting us nowhere. Tensions are building and clear though is wavering. I propose a brief recess for us all to regain our composure before we continue."

"I second that." Cyan actually spoke up, sharing an understanding nod with the weary King.

"Are there any objections?" Edgar asked and looked about the room. No one spoke up, so he proceeded, "Fine then. We'll break for now and meet back in an hour." The delegates broke from the tables, muttering among each other as they headed for the opening doors. Letting go a heavy sigh, Edgar slowly made his way to the balcony exit. The Cliffside balcony of the Consulate Building offered a grand view of the western bay. The sea breeze coming in off the water and the mellow warmth of the spring sun offered the Figaro monarch a bit of comfort. But knowing he'd be returning momentarily to petty argument did not lend him much to relaxation.

"T'would be preferable to battle Odin himself than listen to these talks but one moment more." The old style speech was familiar if not stuffy. And Edgar didn't mind its presence at all. With a grin he glanced back to his friend and former (and in many ways still) ally. Prime Minister Cyan Garamonde stood dressed in traditional, polished armor and elegant but simple clothes and cape of regal blue. "I thank thee humble for thy suggestion to break."

Edgar rubbed his sore neck as he took to leaning on the stone parapet. "Don't mention it, Cyan. I couldn't take much more of that trash either. I mean what's the point of having a room full of fools antagonizing each other back and forth?" Another figure appeared from the door way, to which the King insinuated, "Speaking of antagonizing…"

"What?" The white haired gambler asked innocently as he strolled out to meet his war buddies. "Why are you two glaring at me so much? Is there something in my teeth?"

As he sauntered out to meet them, Edgar gestured back toward the room in frustration, "What was all that in there? Why do you keep trying to push JerJerrod's buttons?"

"Ah, ah, ah." Setzer's finger wagged in an impugning manner, stating rhapsodically, "There shall be no discussion of political matters outside of the summit meeting. We wouldn't want our peers suspecting us of plotting against them. Now, would we?" Edgar gave a bemused chuckle as Cyan just shook his head turning away. Setzer sidled up with them along the parapet, noting off-hand, "Besides, it's not like I want to be here anymore than you two." None could argue that as the stood watching the waves. "I mean, I would much rather be in South Figaro right now."

That caught his companions as a bit odd, and Edgar glanced askew to ask, "Why South Figaro?"

"Gau's debut, of course." Edgar and Cyan looked to him curiously as he spoke on, "I mean, as a former ally, I feel it proper to be there for moral support. And also, I'm really curious what training with Sabin has done for him."

"What debut?" Edgar asked first. "What are you talking about?"

"Gau's entered into the Junior Grand Tournament back in Figaro today. Didn't you know?" Setzer rose a nimble brow as he looked to the King.

"I had no idea. Just the other day I visited my Brother, and he didn't say a thing about this." Edgar spoke in disbelief. "As a matter of fact he said outright that Gau still wasn't ready. Where did you hear about this!"

"Newspaper, radio… heck, pretty much everyone was talking about it last night, when my airship stopped off in South Figaro." He reached into his coat to produce a newspaper. "I was going to stop off to see Gau and Sabin about it,but it was pretty late at night, we were pressed for time." He folded out the publication to show a photo of Gau walking off with Uqba on stage in the background.

Cyan gaped at the image in disbelief, "Tis odd, Master Sabin never wrote to me of considering Mr. Gau's preparedness to compete."

"Guess you just missed it then." Setzer suggested plainly. "After all, this whole thing went down just yesterday." Cyan and Edgar read hastily as Setzer explained, "That Uqba kid put out a big challenge and all. It all seemed pretty coincidental. Heck, Gau's entrance was only even confirmed just last night. I heard they had to drop some low-end fighter to make room for him. There sure aren't too many people complaining about it though."

"Unbelievable…" Edgar turned his gaze from the paper and out toward the sea, toward his homeland to the west. "The boy takes his first steps out into the world, and we're stuck here arguing over who controls it." Sighing deeply he mused aloud, "I really need a vacation."

Cyan patted the King's shoulder, personably suggesting, "There is no rest for the honorable, my friend."

Setzer peered aside to the swordsman, correcting mildly, "Isn't the say no rest for the wicked?"

Cyan turned to Setzer agreeing, "Yes, I suppose thy kind is equally stressed." Setzer and Edgar shared a slight chuckle over the insinuation as they settled in on the balcony, trying to gain what moment of calm they could.

* * *

"It's time, it's time, my Chickee-babies!" Kujaku-Taishou played to his beloved audience as he sauntered into the center of the ring. "We're at the first crossing; the last fight of the first round prelims. And Kujaku-Taishou knows it's a fight a lot of you came to see." A wave of hoots and hollers clamored about the room, to which the feathered spokesman nodded in agreement. "Yes, yes, it's time for the proof of power that we've all been waiting for. Lets see if this boy really has the right to draw this kind of crowd." Calls of encouragement poured down, and Kujaku held up a calming hand to speak, "First we'll bring out a young fighter, who will probably be insulted if I call him the challenger in this match. So, here is the two time South Figaro Amateur Judo Champion. A three year fighter in the Figaro Amateur League with a fifth place record, and one damn impressive piece of man-meat, Richard Hahn!" The bulky form of the young fighter appeared from the corridor, heading up onto the mat under a minor greeting of applause from the anxious crowd. "Well, that was weak." Kujaku-Taishou noted as Richard approached him. With a careless shrug to the judo champion, the animated announcer moved along, "Lets see if his opponent gets a better response." Already a few calls and cheers came down from the surrounding seats, and Kujaku smiled at the anticipation. "Well, I'm not sure I can do this one justice with my introduction, given how much you all probably know about him by now. But that won't stop me from trying. Lights!" Suddenly the Arena went dark, save for a single spot light on the the painted speaker.

Somberly he spoke, "Hailing from the land of a million monsters, the lethal expanse of the Veldt. A veteran from the Great War, when he was still but a boy. The vessel of untamed Rage, the Beast in human flesh, Disciple of the Blitz Fist School, this is Gaaaauuuu!" A second spot light came to light the Western Corridor and cheers and applause thundered down from the crowd as they awaited the Wild Child's entrance. Seconds stretched on in cacophonous moments of anxious calls for his arrival. Yet, no one was appearing from the hall. They waited near a minute before the applause began to die down. In near silence, the annoyed Kujaku tried again, "Don't keep us waiting now. Please come out, GAAAUUUU!" Again the call went unanswered and the crowd was getting restless. Amidst a procession of murmuring and a few scattered boos from the audience, Kujaku glanced aside to one of the Arena Officials, who could only offer a shrug in response. Breathing deep and forcing a smile, Kujaku tried to explain, "Well, kiddies, it seems we're having a bit of a technical problem at the moment. Many of the expected boos came pouring down, but more surprising were the scattered cheers which arose. Gradually the mood swept from upset to upbeat as a din of cheering, drum beating and horn blows overtook the booing. Risking a glance to the Western Corridor, Kujaku-Taishou was pleased to find Gau's form rush to a stop on all fours. "Finally, here is Gau!" Dressed in a pair of calf-length geen gi pants a loose red tunic shirt and wrapped with white bandaging at his hands and feet, the boy sat on his haunches, staring about the invigorated crowd, wide-eyed and open mouthed. He'd never had this much attention on him in his life. Trying to get the young fighter's attention, Kujaku called to him, "Gau. Gau. Come on, over here."

Shaken by the call of his name, Gau forced himself to ignore the audience for now, and stood upright to jog over to the center of the ring. As he approached, he calle out, "Sorry! Sorry!" Kujaku held out his microphone to catch the boy's explanation, "I went down the wrong hall when they said to come out and ended up outside. And the door locked after me. Somebody let me back in though, and he showed me where to go."

Snickers and giggles passed among the crowd as Kujaku just vacantly stared at the wild boy. Making an effort to shake off his disbelief, he suggested helpful, "Right, right, this is your first time competing here. I suppose that our officials didn't bother pointing out where to go, since your background lends to the idea that you'd know what to do when the time came."

"Oooooaaaooo?" Gau's head cocked aside as he tried to think it over, but ended up shaking his head. "No. A man told me. I just get my lefts and rights mixed up sometimes." Laughing bubbled up among the gathered as Richard and Kujaku shared a confused look over Gau's stoop-postured form.

Leaning in the feathered man noted mildly, "You know, you're not making it easy for me to make you look good."

Gau frowned and hung his head. "I'm sorry."

Kujaku slapped himself in the head as the audience laughed, "Don't apologize. You're suppose to be fierce, determined! You're a warrior for crying out loud."

"Ooooooohh. Sorry." Gau straightened up proclaiming, "I'll try harder."

"Uh… right." Kujaku turned away, shaking his head. Patting Richard on the shoulder in passing, he advised, "Don't aim for the head. I don't think it'll do anything." More laughter and Kujaku made his exit from the ring, calling over his shoulder, "Ring the gong and let's hope for the best." The gong sounded and the cheers rained, as Richard stepped in to make a grab for the wiry wild boy,

Br

From the Eastern tunnel, Carina, Alonso and Sabin watched. The brunette shook her head as she watched her classmate narrowly shrug off Hahn's grappling attempts one after the next. Sourly she expressed, "Well, that went horribly."

Sabin shrugged as he watched the match with mild interest, "It went about how I expected."

"Oh come on!" Alonso whined, "That was a complete embarrassment. All those years teaching him martial arts and you couldn't take a moment to sit down and teach him to have a normal conversation?"

The Master turned an aggravated eye on his student who quickly quieted, "Hey, I've done my best. You think he talks badly now then you should have heard him when we first found him on the Veldt. You couldn't get more than a few strung together words. Compared to then, he's a damn scholar." Crossing his arms tighter, he defended, "It's not my fault the boy's uneducated."

Carina offhandedly suggested, "You're his Guardian. Technically that does make it your-" A sharp glare and she cut off, "-shutting up now."

* * *

Richard Hahn led off with a series of grab attempts and open palm thrusts to knock Gau off his balance and take the initiative. The green-haired fighter's lithe movements proved hard to catch though, and his agile arms quickly blocked the straight arm thrusts. The judo fighter was gaining ground, though no real leverage. Gau's sudden shifts and slender frame offered little to grab and he seemed to bound back effortlessly from each assault. Dauntless, Hahn continued with determined and precise blows. Right head shot, left shoulder thrust, a straight heart shot, and none could connect with the smaller fighter. Yet, Richard was unperturbed as he continued, aiming for right side, until finally his opening came. The Blitzer took a side step to avoid a sudden thrust, his wrist left lagging a bit behind him. His body jerked from its momentum as Richard's strong grip anchored Gau's right arm.

"Gotcha now." Stepping in he forced his weight into Gau's gut and executed a sudden hip throw. The Wild Boy arched over Richard's back and slammed down to the mat. Praise for one and criticism of the other shouted down to the ring, as Richard grinned at his success. Still holding Gau by the arm, Richard wrenched the boy up to a stance and hastily stepped in for another throw. Again the Gau impacted with the mat and the crowd sounded off. Richard pulled the boy up again, and repeated the toss. Again and again, he repeated the process, pulling him up and flipping him hard to the ground. "I guess you aren't as tough as people thought." Richard stated triumphantly as he flipped his lacking opponent once more.

* * *

"And you were afraid of this guy?" Brock joked to one of the fighter's watching beside him. The younger teen scratched his head thoughtfully as he watched Gau being tossed about the ring with ease.

Shrugging, he considered to Brock, "I suppose being a Returner isn't all it's cracked up to be."

* * *

"What the hell is this!" Uqba demanded from his view in the Northern Corridor.

"An ass-whooping apparently." A female kendo fighter offered from aside. A fierce glance from the Champion did little to guiet her, as she insisted, "What? Richard's real strong, and you've never even see this Gau kid fight before. What were you expecting?"

"Not this!" Was all Uqba could bicker back as he watched his would-be rival thrown again. "He's supposed to be my great challenge. He's not suppose to be getting beaten around by the same weaklings I've been beating for years!"

* * *

"Come on, Gau, fight back!" Carina called out to her continuously falling friend.

"Do something, dammit!" Alonso cried to him. "You're making us look bad!"

Again and again, Gau was tossed about, absolutely beaten by Hahn's masterful technique. Nervously, Carina looked to their statuesque Master. Sabin stood still and calm, in spite of the situation. Carina pleaded to him suddenly, "How can you look so calm while your student is getting pounded to death out there?"

"Hmm?" Sabin turned a disinterested gaze to his female senior, while the crowd called out once more from another flip. "What's the problem?"

"What's the problem?" She incredulously emulated. "The problem is Gau is getting thrown around like a rag doll, and you aren't even upset. You'd be yelling your head off if it was one of us. What's with you? Do you want Gau to lose?"

Sabin's brow arched curiously at the question. He looked back to the ring, where his student was being apparently effortlessly strung about, before replying, "The boy got himself into this. He can get himself out."

His student's gawked at him in astonishment, and Alonso spoke up, "That's pretty cold."

The estranged Prince showed a bit of his regal heritage in his still posture, as he casually stood watching his student's one sided match. Sagely he offered to his closer disciples, "Just watch. Gau might seem dumb on the outside, but as the saying goes, "still waters run deep"." The trio watched on, one idle and the other two nervous. The ring was drenched in booing and angered complaints, pouring down from the audience. Again and again, the boy who'd been brought in under such hype as tossed, incapable of fighting back.

* * *

This is it! There's no way he can get up after all this. Richard thought gratefully as he flipped Gau once more over his broad shoulder, crashing the smaller boy to the floor. Gau laid still and lifeless there, while Richard remained hovering over him. Breathing heavily from the exertion of throwing Gau's weight about for the last few minutes straight, the judo fighter was a bit haggard and sweating blatantly. But the fatigue was worth it, right?

A drop of sweat fell from Hahn's nose falling to Gau's cheek below. His face twitched with the sudden wetness and his lips curled instantly into a grin. Richard gawked at the boy beneath him. No way. he couldn't be…. His thoughts were interrupted by Gau's opening eyes. As the red pupils focused in on him, Richard was suddenly very aware of the predicament. Sucking in an angered breath, he demanded in a tremulous shout, "S-stop screwi-wing around!" Twisting his body, he pulled Gau up hard for another throw. Bracing Gau's forearm over a thick shoulder, Richard wrenched forward with all of his strength for one final assault. Midway though, he found his momentum halted, and a new weight burdened his hips. Gau's legs wrapped the larger fighter's waist like a belt stopping the throw and bearing his body down onto Richard. The meaty young man staggered a bit in his short breathed exhaustion, but kept his footing. A snicker rung in his ear above the din of the suddenly enthusiastic crowd, and he muttering back in annoyance, "La-haff at me, urg… will you?" Sucking in a deep breath, he warned, "Laugh at this!" Springing backwards, Richard gripped gau's arm tight. Planning to follow flat on his back, he would crush Gau beneath him. At least, that was the plan.

Gau's legs disengaged, and with amazing speed he kicked off from Richard's back. Still held his right arm, he couldn't make a complete escape, but he managed to avoid the brunt of the assault. Richard's back crashed to the ground between Gau's spread legs. Bent over completely to keep his arm straight against Richard's body, Gau had landed on his butt with no trouble. The shock of the impact loosened Richard's mighty grip and the wild boy leaped back into a quick handspring to gain some distance. Set back in a four point crouch, he looked with appraising red eyes to his opponent. Trying to get back his lost breath, Richard just stared back in aggravated shock.

* * *

"What the heck just happened!" Alonso cried out in mixed emotion. "How'd he recover so fast?"

"He didn't." Sabin offered as Gau sat patiently waiting Richard's recovery in the ring. Carina and Alonso looked to their instructor for further answers and he gave them freely, "Gau's been getting thrown around all his life. He knows how to go limp and roll with the blow on instinct. All he was doing was letting Hahn tire himself out."

"Wow." Alonso looked from Sabin to Gau, pondering, "Since when's he so smart?"

"Go Gau!" Carina yelled out as she applauded him along with the surprised crowd.

* * *

The green-haired boy just sat there, idly waiting as Richard recovered. Rolling over and pushing his body back up, Hahn noted in heavy words, "So, you won't attack someone while they're down, huh? I respect that." Gau's head just cocked side to side as the tired Richard got back into a fighting pose. "But, I still plan to win." He moved in quickly, but found Gau moving faster. The Blitzer hand sprung back again and again, leaving Richard to chase after his acrobatic opponent. At the edge of the ring Gau stopped suddenly and Richard rushed in for the kill. He was prepared for a final double handed thrust for the shove out of the ring and the victory. This is over! He assured himself once more as he moved in for the thrust. Then he saw those eyes.

Red, sneering and alive with bestial force, Gau's eyes closed in on Richard like a hungry predator. His weight shifted forward to attack -what's he doing! Richard's nerves quivered but he pressed the attack. Strong palms thrust forward for Gau's chest, but they found nothing. Twisting aside, Gau reached out around the larger youth's arms to grab him by the gi and pull with his forward momentum. Richard found his body pulled forward to the edge of the ring before being suddenly spun around to face Gau. The wild child stared at him purposefully, while barely holding the hanging judo fighter by his lapel. Looking him in the eye one last time, Gau pointlessly called, "Punch." Then releasing Richard's lapel on quick left jab assured his loss of balance. With nothing to grab, the strong youth was sent tumbling back to the floor.

"RIIIIIINNNNNGGGG OOOOUUUT!"

* * *

The crowd rang with mixed applause of amused fans and disappoint blood-seekers, while Uqba was shocked quiet. He simply stared as Gau looked dumbly about the audience and Kujaku-Taishou rushed into the ring. Watching the scene as if it were surreal he began to laugh hollowly. From beside him, the kendo fighter asked curiously, "What's so funny."

"Hahaha." The dark-tanned Champion shook his head, offering only, "I guess that counts."

* * *

From the flat of his back, Richard stared up at the lights. Cheers poured down, not for him. His breath was coming in short gasps and the aches of his fatigue were starting to set in. How did this happen? I was winning. Wasn't I? How do I lose to one lucky shot?

"Oi!" A carefree voice sound aside him as a body landed down beside him. "You alright? You been down for a while. I didn't think I hurt you."

Richard's eyes opened to glare up at Gau's peaceful countenance. Harshly he stated, "I'm fine. I'm just annoyed over how the fight went."

"I'm sorry." Gau frowned sincerely as he settled back on his heels. "I was worried you'd be upset that I didn't fight like normally. But it was the only way I could think of." Richard looked to him quizzically, "One punch." Gau reminded and went on to explain. "It was the only way I could think of. Your too tough for me to really hurt you much with just one, or even a dozen I figure. So a ring out was the only way. But you're strong and have good balance, so I had to get you tired first. But if I fought back, it might count as well as the punch, so I'd still lose. This was all I could think of." His head hung like a chastised dog as he apologized woefully, "I'm sorry."

Richard just stared back at him in utter amazement. He… he really did… Sitting up he took a moment before assuring Gau, "No… uh… it's alright. You beat me completely. Really you did." Gau's head rose with a happy smile. "I can accept a defeat like this."

"Great!" Gau gave an infectious smile in reply. The boy blatantly wore his emotions on his sleeve.

"Wonderful! Splendid! Inspiring!" Kujaku-Taishou cried out as he moved into the ring. "This ends the first series of today's tournament. Half of the fighters are eliminated. We'll just have to wait and see who remains beyond this point."


	3. It must begin

**Duelist's Law**

**Chapter 3: It must begin…**

**-Lunauc**

"Why would you do something that crazy?" Carina questioned the green-haired boy following beside her. "I mean Richard's really strong. Letting him beat you around just because that jerk Uqba dared you, it's completely senseless. You could've been really hurt." She turned a sharp gaze on Gau who faltered in his steps a bit, as he returned her an awkward frown.

"I'm sorry. But I said I'd try. And that was the only way I could thin-"

"… The only way you could think of. I know." She finished the boy's sentence in a huff and turned to keep walking down the hall. He followed obediently on her heels as she continued to chastise, "I swear, sometimes you can be so inconsiderate. Do you know how worried we were?"

"Um…. No..?" Gau tried honestly and got a glare in return. "Sorry." Carina shook her head, picking up her pace down the hall, and Gau hurried along to keep up. It was a moment before he tried pointing out tentatively, "I did win."

Turning back to him, she took in his unsure countenance. In spite of her apprehension, she softened, "Y-yeah, I know. I mean, you fought really smartly, and you did a good job." She risked a grin that he quickly mimicked. "Keep fighting hard, okay?" He gave a gargled chuckle and a happy nod, after which she quickly added, "Try not to do anything too dangerous though."

"Oooooaa?" His head lulled aside to consider, "Isn't fighting supposed to be dangerous?"

"You know what I mean." She bickered in exasperation. His utterly confused look though assured her that he didn't. "Oh, never mind." Spinning on her heel she started walking again. "Just come on, we're already late."

"Sorry." Gau apologized again as he followed down the hall.

Turning one corner, then another, the duo soon heard the calls of the crowd ahead. "Oh, no. They started already. Hurry up!" Carina took off running for the open doorway at the end of the hall, with Gau right behind her. They burst out into the eastern entrance corridor. At the mouth of tunnel fighters and trainers were busy watching the match in progress. Spotting Sabin quickly, Carina and Gau rushed over to their Master. Preemptively, she offered, "I'm sorry, we're late. How much did we miss?"

Sabin shot back a stony gaze, "Fortunately you aren't too late for your own match. That's up next. There wasn't much of the first fight to miss. Uqba took out that karate kid in about ten seconds. Now Alonso's up against kendo girl."

"How's he doing?" She asked while jockeying for a better view.

"Well, he's still standing after four minutes." Sabin offered gruffly. In the ring, Alonso, in white mandarin style pants with a yellow sash and a blue tank top, was barely avoiding slashes and stabs from a well-handled bokken. His opponent, Kaori of the Shining Arch school, was holding an obvious lead, as the smaller boy did all he could to avoid her assaults. You could practically hear him cry out an "ouch" each time he parried a stinging swipe with his bare forearm.

"Guess the stripe didn't heal." Gau noted, as he spotted the bruised line down the center of Alonso's bald head.

Sabin let out a beleaguered sigh, informing him woefully, "Actually, it did. She just gave him a new one." Gau and Carina shared a worried grimace as they turned back to the match.

* * *

"Just give it up already, Q-ball." Kaori advised as she unleashed another cross cut on Alonso, who gave a pained yip as it grazed above his elbow. "You're ten years too early for me."

Her attacks were swift and precise. The boy already couldn't feel his arms beneath the bruises he'd accumulated. If she were using a real sword, he wouldn't have arms left. His head was still reeling from the "lucky" shot she'd scored in the first minute. And her quick sword didn't give him any opening. Yet he insisted between hard breaths, "Hell No! I'm not going to lose!" Suddenly her sword hesitated, though Alonso kept up his blocks out of instinct, taking a few extra steps back before noticing she'd stopped attacking. "Huh?" He cautiously looked up to Kaori, who stared back at him with a look of worry.

"Oh no." He was suddenly curious of her concern. With worrisome eyes, she asked, "Did I knock your silly little head delirious?" A slight pause later and she was laughing.

Alonso gave a growl at the insult. Setting his feet, he charged forward, "That's it! Feel my fists!" He led right in with twin punches, fully intent to pummel her into submission. It had dire intent. It was gutsy. It was… kind of weak.

Not taking into account the lacking strength of his injured arms, the first punch barely had any power to it and was parried easily. Kaori gripped the bokken at each end to knock his fists aside and pushed into his chest with her shoulder. A split-second later, Alonso's head was awash with searing pain, as the butt of the wooden sword jabbed up under his chin.

"1-2-3-4…"

* * *

"Pathetic." Sabin hung his head with an aggravated sigh.

Beside him Gau, sat on his haunches tried to console, "He… might get up."

".8-9-10. This match is over!" Gau and Carina winced with the call, as Sabin sighed harder. "Miss Kaori moves on to the quarter-finals to face the Champion Uqba! And poor Baldy gets to be carried out on a stretcher! So everybody wins!" Kujaku shrugged as he stepped up onto the mat. "Sort of…" The painted man nudged the fallen boy with the toe of a fancy red boot. As Alonso shifted around a bit, semi-concious, the announcer offered satisfactorily, "Oh good, he's still alive. Someone want to get him out of here now?" Medics were already on the way up as Kujaku-Taishou moved along to speak with the winner. "Oh, Miss Kaori, that was a beautiful victory!"

Watching their classmate being carried back to the North on a stretcher, Sabin blandly announced, "I better go check on him."

"You aren't going to yell at him, are you?" Carina spoke up responsively.

Screwing up his expression, Sabin bit back, "No. I have a little more tact than to go yell at a kid for losing, right after getting thrashed."

Carina gave an apologetic look back to her offended teacher. "I'm sorry, Master."

Nodding, he turned away, pointing out, "I'll wait until tomorrow to discipline him." She groaned in frustration. Sabin uncrossed his arms and prepared to leave, but stopped a moment to address Carina, "You're up next. You have to take that spear fighter. Remember, work your way in. Once your past the point and in close range, you've got the advantage."

"I know, Master." Carina assured with a quick nod.

"Right. And Gau…"

"Oooooouuu?"

Sabin just stared to the boy. Neither spoke for the moment, Carina looked back and forth between them curiously. After a short while, Sabin finally advised, "Take it easy, kid." With that, he turned away heading for an exit from the block.

"How come you don't get instructions?" Gau just glanced up to Carina and gave an errant shrug and a noncommittal groan.

* * *

The second rounds stretched for over the next hour. Carina defeated Garret Wan's spearmanship, after taking a couple of would be critical jabs, had the spear not been tipped by a padded head, as per Junior grade rules. The grappler Manny West beat out young boxer Daniel Reeves in the next round with a strangling submission hold. Basoon of the Blistering wind school then managed to take out the young karate champ, Sam Louis, and Brock easily beat Crane Wing school's Sierra Gin, using brute force over careful grace. In D Block Mikhael Flitch's judo bested the stick fighting of Kelly Wayne, but only after taking successive shots to the arms torso and head. Gau then won over Sumo wrestler Jawa with a three second ring out. Seeing the wild boy simply take the charge and trip the massive fighter for an easy victory once more annoyed the paying customers.

The sun was just setting outside, while the third rounds began. Uqba faced Kaori's bokken in the semi-finals. He was quoted as stating in the ring to her, "I'm sorry. But I don't have time for you today." She scoffed his words and struck out headlong. In a flash he captured her false sword between his fists in a double crushing blow, splintering her weapon in an instant. The finishing punch sealed his sudden victory.

Carina barely managed to avoid the vice grips of Grappler West, with quick in and out assaults, to claim the B Block lead and her place in the quarter finals. Basoon attacked in the next round with a valiant effort of spinning kicks and quick jabs. Yet he was no match for Brock's powerful pummeling assault. Gau then, much to the chagrin of the audience, won by default as Flitch had to forfeit from his injuries. The excessive booing and throwing of trash into the ring showed their displeasure.

A short intermission followed for fighter's to prepare. As the time was coming up on seven in the evening, the first quarter final match was ready to begin. And Carina found her self about to battle the, so far today, merciless Uqba.

"Well, the ring's finally clean again." Kujaku-Taishou noted contently as he looked about the audience. "And we would appreciate if you all kept it that way. So … STOP THROWING CRAP!" He yelled at the once more settled fans, then taking a moment, to straighten to a more gentlemanly manner, the crowd offered a few amused snickers, as he gave a polite, "Thank you." He took a deep, refreshing breath before speaking on, "It's getting to around that time for another healthy dose of all out thrilling violence." Aggreeing cheers rose up and he relented, "I know, babies, you're starving for it. Don't worry. You know dear, sweet Kujaku-Taishou is here to serve you what you need." Anxious cheers came down and Kujaku threw his head back to reply to them with a shrill Peacock call, which many spectators mimicked back at him. Smiling wide, he announced, "We're coming down to the line, Chickee-babies. Just two more fights until our final championship bout later tonight. Will Uqba get his fated battle against the Blitz Fist's Gau? Or will one of the wild child's two classmates walk home with the belt? Heck, there's only one way to find out." A suggestive hitch played in his voice as he leaned forward to scan the audience, as they sounded off their eagerness.

* * *

"Okay, just relax. Stay cool. Stay Focused." Alonso encouraged from beside Carina, His left arm was up in a sling and a dark swollen bruise had materialized where Kaori had nicked him on the chin. Not to mention a doubly bruised skunk strip was concealed under his fisher's cap. Carina prepared her self with a bit of quick kata and breathing exercises. Sabin stood aside also, while Dellus joined in with Alonso.

"Yeah, girl, you're strong. You're ready. You can take this jerk!" The muay thai fighter assured, holding up his palms for her to aim a few punches.

"Damn Straight!" She called back as she scored a few shots to Dellus' moving hands. "I'm gonna kick his conceited ass. Then I'm taking home the belt!" She punctuated the last word with a sharp right straight that left Dellus' hand stinging. Grinning with satisfaction as the taller fighter stepped back, trying to shake the pain from his hand, she looked to her Master, asking in after thought, "So, Master Sabin, any last minute advice?"

Lazily the blonde mentor turned his head to his students, taking a moment to think before speaking, "Normally, I'd tell you to go for his weaknesses, like the way he leaves his gut open when he steps in for the uppercut. Or take advantage of the way he wastes time and showboats." Carina nodded along, paying close attention, until her teacher amended, "Unfortunately, he isn't doing any of that today." The younger fighters' faces fell as he continued, "It looks like Volga's gotten rid of the little habits the kid use to have. Right now he's an extremely balanced competitor. He doesn't have any obvious openings to attack. And unfortunately he's so focused on fighting Gau, he's not bothering to show off anymore. He's trying for quick kills and wasting no movement." Carina had gone from upbeat and exhilarated to sunken and unnerved, with her two companions sharing her worrisome expression. Nodding to him self, Sabin only offered a pointless. "Mm hmm… Yup."

"What the hell kind of pep-talk was that?" A crestfallen Alonso demanded.

"Eh?" Glancing back to his now dejected students, Sabin took a breath and gave a nod. "Alright then…" He squared his shoulders and stood before Carina, looking down on her sternly. Extending one arm purposefully, the teens watched curiously. One fist outstretched, they awaited some grand gesture or proclamation. With a sudden snap of his fingers, his thumb shot up as his face simultaneously shifted to a wide smile. Nice Guy Pose; Teeth flashing in a big smile as he gave an exaggerated wink and an enthusiastic thumb up.

The teens just gawked at him. At least they weren't depressed anymore. They just stared at his unnatural pose a moment. The oddity of it alone had them trying to stifle a few giggles, which had Sabin's brow twitching. "Wha-what the hell is that?" Alonso questioned thoughtlessly between snickers, just to be met by a swat to the back of the head by Sabin in reply. "Owch!"

"I'm a martial artist, not a Cheerleader!" The master yelled at the injured boy, while the other two broke out laughing. He turned an aggravated eye to them, which only forced them to hold back their laughter. Noticing that Carina was at least smiling again, Sabin relented, letting his annoyance pass. "Kid, just do your best. You CAN win this. Just do your self proud. Understand?"

"Yes, Master." Carina gave brief bow and Sabin allowed his face a slight grin.

"Let's start things off on the right foot." Kujaku-Taishou beckoned from the ring, "She's shown today that her brawn is surpassed only by her beauty. Yet, I believe I've praised her enough today, seeing as how she keeps hitting me." Fans snickered and the speaker frowned. "Carina Tellius!"

"Here I go." She stated finitely, though hesitated to take a breath. Alonso and Dellus gave her some last second encouragement that she didn't really hear in her anxiety. She turned a smile to them all the same though, before jogging out onto the mat. Her fans cheered and she waved responsively. In the shadows of the four tunnel ways she could make out fellow fighters there to view the match. They'd all be cheering for her, she knew. As long as it was against Uqba, they'd cheer for her.

"Hello, Gorgeous." Kujaku leaned in to inquire tenderly, "Are you in condition to take on the Champ?"

Forcing a grin, she proposed into the outstretched microphone, "I guess we're about to find out."

"Uh huh, uh huh." The painted performer nodded quickly in agreement, as he stepped back to take her all in with his appraising gaze. "Carina, you may have the look of a frail maiden, but I sure know better." He rubbed his over-chopped arm in mock soothing, earning a slight snigger from the anxious brunette. Gladly he impressed, "If nothing else, Sabin Figaro's student's have proved that he's a great teacher, with three of you making it into the finals. And if you win this match, it will be one of you for sure who goes home with the title." A smile rose to her slips as she shook her head in understanding. With uncharacteristic care, the flamboyant speaker spoke sincerely, "You're stronger than most men that I know of. But now we'll have to see how you fair against the likeness of a Demon." His gaze turned from her as he gestured toward the Northern tunnel. "Champion, don't keep us in suspense. Uqba!"

He came out almost simultaneously with the call of his name. Foregoing his robe and paying no mind to the either spectators who cheered or booed, he simply strolled up into the ring. His eyes locked with Carina's on approach. The cold intent she found there was almost as resounding as the howling crowd around her. His steps were brisk and purposeful, as if he planned to walk straight through her, and keep going onward. The instance he stopped a few steps before her was so unexpected her body actually gave a bit of an involuntary flinch. She did her best to play it off as the beginning of drawing a deep breath as she glanced off to the "more interesting" audience.

"So… either of you care to say anything before we begin?" Kujaku-Taishou held forth his microphone in tentative offer. Yet neither fighter made an immediate move for it.

"I don't believe anyone came here to listen to us talk." Uqba offered sagely.

Carina gave a nod, assenting, "Actions speak louder than words anyway." The crowd called out in complimentary response. Apparently they'd chosen the right words after all.

Giving an errant shrug, the typically ostentatious loud mouth backed away humbly, "I suppose that's the all of it. Ring the gong." The metal rung as he made his departure and the combatants closed together.

As Sabin had said, Uqba was wasting no movement. With a quick step he was before her and leading in with a strong right straight for her heart. Having trained numerous times with Brock, in his near obsessive quest to beat this man, finally paid off. She barely managed a left arm block. It saved her from the heart shot, yet his powerful arm, hardly yielded and still connected with her right shoulder. The force of it sent her staggering back, while her right side paralyzed in a split-second nervous response. Bearing down on her, the Champion gave no time to recover. His fists rose and she hastened her arms, or more accurately arm, to block, just before her abdomen exploded in pain from a forward kick. 'Damn! It was a feint!' She yelled her mind, as her body was knocked back. Her feet managed to stay beneath her though unsteadily. Uqba was powerful, definitely, and his skill was no joke. Seeing him come forth again for her, Carina's eyes caught his once more. No anger, no malice, they were just filled with harsh intent. A kind of purpose to achieve his goal unflinching, and she was but a pebble in his path. Hopping from his right foot, his fist rose for a downward punch, to crush her shaken form beneath him.

"No way…" Near breathless, she proclaimed to her self as her body dropped toward the ground. Uqba's fist never came close as her back rushed the mat, but her right leg thrust back up. Gravity did its bit as Uqba's gut impaled on his opponent's upturned heel. Applause came quick and loudly for her meager success and Ubqa let out a slight groan of pain. 'No time to be happy.' Her palms planted to the mat as she thrust her other leg up for a follow up kick. This one he managed to block. His stro0ng forearm caught her sole and with a sweep of his arm he had her by the ankle. Cries of worry rained down around her, as the Champion's weight twisted her over She struggled, but failed against the larger fighter's overpowering. Flopped onto her stomach, her leg was wrenched back as Uqba took a seat down at the base of her spine. "Aaauaaggkkhaa…" She screamed out pained, drowning from her ears the mix of emotions called down from the crowd.

Pain racked her frame as it was stretched beyond its limits, and her leg felt as if it would pop from the socket any second. Tears stung her eyes, but she still forced her arms to move. Reaching back blindly, her fingers grasped for an unseen hope. But she knew it was there. Wisps of hanging strands grazed her desperate digits and she lashed out to grasp them. Uqba's head pulled back as Carina grabbed him by his neatly tied pony-tail. Save for a surprised instant yelp of ache, Uqba showed no concern for the hair pulling. So Carina pulled harder.

and so did he. "Yaaauu…ooooaa…aaahhh…"

"You can give up at any time." His words were cool and collected, even as she was trying desperately to tear the hair right from the back of his head.

'I won't lose like this.' She wanted to say it. But bent over backward with a near two hundred pound man sitting on her midsection made just breathing a harrowing task. Feebly her free arm and leg fought to gain some purchase on the mat, trying to force her body up from under his grievous hold. Letting go the worthless hold of his arm she tried using both hands to push herself up, trying to best the Champion's strength if only just enough to slip free. 'Come on Carina. Ignore the pain. Just do this. Do this!' Immaterial daggers ground their phantasmal blades in through her strained pelvis. Her diaphragm squashed down, cutting off her breath, as she put everything into this last bid for freedom.' Her fans called down, begging for mercy, pleading for her to submit, urging the officials to stop the match. Yet she wouldn't give in like that. 'I'm a Blitzer. We don't give in. We press forward. We're brave. We fight.'

"Carina, give up!" The familiarity of the voice grasped her like a hand on the shoulder. Plenty of others in the crowd were yelling similar things, but this one she could identify. Her body relented to the mat as the pain still controlled her. Managing to suck in a quick breath, her eyes sought out before her to a single fighter in the tunnel she faced. He pushed forward from the other worried viewers, calling out to her, "Tap out already! Are you trying to end your career!" She just stared at him, her mind trying to register those instructions from this man.

'Brock?' The oldest senior, the one who always searched out a fight, the one who never gave in was telling her to quit? 'It's that bad, huh?' Her mind grasped for some escape, but it was no use. 'Does this mean you'll quit too?' Her fists balled tight as her face pressed the mat to hide her pained expression. This was it. Against the killing intent of one who is ready to face the world, this was as far as she could get today. Her right hand flattened out. She'd have to tap out. Uqba wrenched her leg once more for some added motivation. "AawwWaaaggkuuhh…"

"HaaaoooOOOOOOOOOOO!" The bestial howl echoed through the arena. Many quieted to see what manner of creature which bellowed it forth while others still spilt out their own mob cacophony.

Carina couldn't turn to see, as the howl came from behind her. But she knew well enough who the crier was. And he found him self right in Uqba's line of sight. There before the Western tunnel entrance, Gau was set on all fours. A fierce snarl warped his usually kind countenance. Like some feral cat, his spine curved up, his shoulders shivering with the deep growl which vibrated his sleek frame. After fighting two top competitors in the Junior League, this was the first sign of real aggression he'd shown all night. Uqba took a pensive moment to study the unbelievable transformation. "Now, that's more like it." A sly grin graced his lips as the Champion carelessly released Carina's pained leg.

She cried and groaned involuntarily as her body flexed itself back into correction seeking comfort from the angry throb radiating from her thigh and pelvis. Gasping to get her breath right again, she lay there on the mat, just wondering why she was released. She hadn't submitted yet. Had she? No, the gong never rang. Off to the side she could still see the officials watching, they hadn't stopped anything yet. Aching and haggard, she shifted over to look back at her opponent. Uqba had had the consideration to get off of her back. Now he stood, staring away toward Gau's hunched figure.

"Now there's the beast I've been hearing so much about." The deep-tanned fighter called out to Gau. The wild boy's fierce growling had eased with Carina's release. Yet he still sat there on all fours, staring down the outwardly friendly Uqba. "Let's just make sure you bring that kind of intensity to our match."

'What the hell is he doing?' Carina wondered as she watched the stronger fighter carelessly speak to Gau, ignoring his still conscious opponent. 'I may not be very mobile at the moment, but that's still rude.' She tried to joke to herself. But with the persisting pain of her lower body there was little comfort in sight. Her body seemed to cry out in protest as she made it rise up on hands on knees. 'Okay, you're half way there. And he's still making googly-eyes at your boy… er… friend. Just get up and… do… something.'

However, Uqba chose this moment to turn back to Carina. She wasn't prepared to continue, or even stand yet, and he was already strolling back to her. That cold hard gaze was in his eyes again, and so was that defiant walk. The kick for her abdomen came quick and clean. She couldn't block it in time, just tense her muscles and try to roll with it. The mob shouted their dismay with boos and name calling as the unfortunate heroine of this realistic play was sent tumbling aside. Uqba paid no mind to the hateful crowd as he calmly strolled over and reached down for Carina. Try as she might to fend him off, his hands were strong and precise. Gripping her by her Wrist and behind her elbow, he pressured her left arm upward until she was forced to stand from the strain. Held up by one twisted arm, she was displayed to the crowd by her apparently sadistic opponent. She staggered on weakened legs, kept to stand, only by the pinched nerves agonizing from her hand to her shoulder. Feebly she tried kick at Uqba's lower legs, hoping to trip him up or gain some chance for release, and once more it was futile. Turned toward the Western Tunnel again, she faced toward Gau. Once more he was growling with feral angst. His brows creased in a ravenous snarl and his crooked fangs were bared. This was something she'd never seen before. Gau was always friendly, playful, like a puppy dog, not like… this. Anyone could be angry, but why did it look so wrong on him? It just looked so… inhuman.

Crack She didn't see Gau anymore, as the dark shadow of the back of Uqba's fist, eclipsed her vision and racked her skull in trauma, washing everything over in a blur of white and flashing colors. Dazed she stumbled back, only to feel the wrench of her arm shock her with pain, demanding her to stay on her feet. "AaahahaAuggga..aaa..aa…" She was swimming in anguish and barely staying afloat. At the moment all she wanted was to lie down. The match was already a distant memory as far as her oxygen deprived and slightly battered mind was concerned. All of a sudden her arm was free and she felt her legs give way gratefully. Her knees met the mat with a hard thud and the rest of her body had explicit intent to follow. Yet, she was never allowed to make it that far.

Uqba held the kneeling girl gently by her throat as he stood behind her. Hovering over her barely conscious body, he looked to the furious wild boy, and offered a conceited wink. "Wonderful response." Holding her loosely in place with his left hand, his right rose to deliver a coup-de-grace blow to the back of her head. "Thank you for your help, little girl." He offered with mock gratitude, just before his fist came down. Like the trigger of a gun, it set Gau off. Like a lion he leapt up into the ring. He pounced to the mat hard, just to see Uqba's fist lingering over the back of Carina's head. He never finished the blow. Still growling and angry, Gau watched Uqba set her down. Then giving a mock salute her turned and began out of the ring, just to be met by Brock, who had been entering the ring unseen from behind them. He cast the cold Champion a hateful glare, which was carelessly ignored.

"Carina?" Brock turned to her as Sabin, Alonso and Dellus hurried up into the ring. Gau, like a cautious creature, continued to watch the Champion walk off and stop to speak with one of the viewing officials. With the threat gone, his shoulder's eased and his expression fell to worry as he turned back toward Carina. Seeing her already being tended to by Master Sabin, as the other three hovered over her, Gau trotted over on all fours. His predatory eyes took her in quickly. She was breathing heavy, but evenly. Her right eye was badly bruised and starting to swell, but that would heal. Her leg didn't look dislocated, but it would probably be a few weeks before she'd be fighting on it again. "That creep! Where does he get off doing sick shit like that to here?" Brock demanded furiously.

"Screw the tournament. I've got half a mind to go kick his worthless ass right now!" Alonso barked off toward the Champion as he casually conversed with the judge. Carina gave out a pained groan then, and his face shifted from hate to concern, as he looked down to her.

Meanwhile, Gau and remained silently sitting aside. He looked between his injured friend and Uqba's disconcerted retreat. Medics hurried up beside Sabin, though he maintained control. Meanwhile, the Official speaking with the dark-skinned fighter walked off to speak with Kujaku-Taishou, while signaling to the gong striker. The ring sounded, ending the match, and the feather-jacketed announcer stepped up to give the result, "On account that his opponent could no longer continue, Uqba takes the victory and assures his place in the finals." Harsh booing cried throughout the arena, and once more, garbage came down in a barrage toward the officials around the ring. "I can't say I disagree with that. But let's check on Miss Tellius." He jogged over, leaning in close with his microphone, and wearing a mask of concern, he asked frankly, "How is she?"

Sabin turned a perturbed eye to the clown, but spoke straight, "Don't worry. She'll heal." A few scattered cheers and calls of encouragement came down from the crowd as she was moved onto a stretcher and carried from the ring.

As they all cleared out, Kujaku-Taishou stepped up to speak shortly, "In light of events, we'll be taking a short break, since both of our next competitors want to take a moment to check on their injured schoolmate. I'm sure you all understand." There wasn't much fuss, even a few more calls from Carina's fans. "That's my good lil' Chickee-babies. Hit the bathrooms, get snack, but don't go far. Third ranked Brock of the Blitz Fist, takes on his friend and now foe, the Wild Child Gau next. Don't miss it!"

* * *

In the medic room, Carina was cared to by the professionals, while her friends waited outside. Sabin rested stiffly against the wall, while Brock paced furiously back and forth in contrast. Dellus and Alonso were mutually fidgeting, while Gau sat against the wall on the opposite side of the door from his mentor. "That JERK!" The exclamation burst from the stressed Brock, as he punched the stone wall.

"Relax." The word drawled from Sabin's lips, as he didn't even bother to open his eyes.

"What do you mean relax?" the dark-haired student demanded, "You saw that bullshit too. That asshole just used her like a training dummy. No way, we can just let this shit slide!"

"He's right." Alonso agreed. "That bastard didn't even treated her like a person. She was just a… a…"

"Message." Brock finished for him, and looked heavily down to Gau. The beast boy instinctively lifted his eyes to glance back, for just a brief second before returning his gaze to the floor where his tough nails picked at the tiling. "He wanted to make absolutely sure he had the Great Gau's attention." Brock's hands gestured in upset exaggeration. "Fuck him!" Again he hit the wall, near cracking the stone, with his ki powered strength. "I'm gonna give him back ten times what he gave to her. That sonovabitch's never gonna fight again when I'm done with him!" No one spoke. It was deathly silent, save for the murmur of the crowd off in the distance from the hall and the slight sounds from inside the medic room. After the lengthened pause, Brock, who had remained staring at the wall, spoke somberly, "I'm sorry Gau." The others looked to him curiously, especially the wild boy, he rose wide red eyes up to his friend's wide back. The crew cut youth turned back with a serious expression, stating firmly, "I can't let you win. No matter what, I'm going to beat that creep tonight, once and for all." He turned away to stalk off, as the others watched him go. They weren't quite sure how to respond to that, and the fretting Gau, didn't even want to.

A short moment later the door the door opened to admit the Arena doctor. She took in the strange air of the waiting fighters as Sabin inquired, "Is everything alright?"

"Everything is fine, Master Sabin." She assured at first, but backtracked to correct, "Well, no, Carina's not entirely fine." Seeing the men tense, she hastily amended, "But she will be." They eased visibly and she spoke on normally, "She's suffered a slight conscious, some minor asphyxiation and a rather severe sprain of her hip. She'll need to take a few weeks away from training, and it would be best to stay off of her feet as much as possible. But she'll be to heal just fine."

The men breathed their sighs of relief and uttered their thanks. And Alonso asked cautiously, "Can we see her?"

"Sure." She gave a brief nod as she thought it over, "We've given her a restorative potion, and she hasn't woken up yet. But as long as you're quiet and respectable, I don't see a problem."

Alonso and Dellus both offered a quick "Thanks" as they headed into the room with the doctor. Gau was about to turn in to follow them, when his Master spoke up, "You almost lost it back there." He tensed at the statement, but quickly settled back.

"I was in control. Just mad." Gau spoke meekly as he rested on his haunches beside the door.

"You were close though, and you weren't even in the ring yet." Sabin stated firmly as he looked down to this student, "Do you think you'll fare better when its you in there with him?"

"That's different."

"How?"

"He was trying to make me angry." The unimpressed way Sabin arched his brow at the explanation told Gau he'd chosen the wrong words. So he tried again, "I mean, it was her match. I couldn't do anything about it. So he could use her to make me angry. If it's me in the ring, it's okay if he's hurting me just to hurt me." His face twisted as he tried to rework the words in his mind, figuring if that made sense.

Sabin seemed to get the idea, but still cited, "You were about to interrupt at the end."

The boy shrugged down pitifully, trying to explain, "It got dangerous at the end."

"I know. An undefended punch to the back of the head; it's dangerous enough without strength like Uqba's. But that's still no excuse for…"

"Brock charged in too." Gau cut in to add.

"And he shouldn't have eith-…"

"I saw you move too." Sabin flinched. "You only took a step. But you were gonna move before me and Brock…"

"Whatever." Sabin turned his head away, caught as he was. They remained quiet a moment longer.

Gau rested on the doorway, thinking over the position he found himself in. 'If I didn't enter, Uqba wouldn't have been fought like that. Carina wouldn't be hurt so bad. Brock wouldn't be so angry. Now I have to fight Brock. He really wants to fight Uqba too. And if I weren't here he probably would anyway. He's stronger than Carina, but not that much. He might just end up…' Gau groaned pitiably. Turning woeful red eyes up to Sabin, he began to ask, "Master…?"

"It's your choice." The blonde fighter spoke preemptively, giving Gau pause to wonder if his Master was psychic. "Just figure it out quick. You have a match waiting." With that Sabin turned into the medic room to check one another of his students.

* * *

"What the Hell are you doing?" Volga demanded vehemently as he watched Uqba stroll into the Owner's suite.

Smartly the Champion replied, as he plopped down on one of the plush couches, "I'm resting before the big match."

"Don't give me that crap. What were you doing out there with that Tellius girl? Doing that kind of deranged garbage, you'll completely ruin your reputation!"

Turning his head aside, he scoffed lightly, "I didn't do anything she won't heal back from."

"You think the crowd cares?" Promoter Ringlet almost hopped up from the arm chair nearby, "As far as they're concerned you might as well have broken every bone in her body. Come tomorrow your name will be synonymous with brutalizing school girls. How's that sound?"

"Sounds like a waste of my time." He carelessly spoke, "After I fight Gau, that's all people will remember of tonight."

"Ridiculous." Volga gravitated over his protégé. "Shaming your self just to pick a fight? Is this how I trained you?"

Uqba's eyes lowered and he shook his head in boredom. "No. You trained me to keep getting stronger and only fight when I knew I could win." Drawing a sharp breath, he looked up to his teacher, speaking firmly, "Sure, I build step by step. And I do believe you when you say I will challenge the world one day. But what's the point of being a fighter if I'm restrained to single steps? I want to test my limits. I want to know if I'm really strong enough for the world. And I need this fighter to prove it to me."

The Baron stared back at his student, for a pensive moment, before shaking his head to the notion. "Damn foolish. Challenging your self is one thing. You're just fabricating grand hurdles to clear to make your self feel better. You don't need to do stupid things like this to believe in your self, Punk. With strength like yours, you should believe in your self just fine. And when I say that, I mean it."

Uqba paused a moment, staring to the table top, before responding, "I do trust your words, Baron." He stood from the couch and turned to leave. "However, this is still something I feel that I must do." He headed back for the exit, but was stopped momentarily by Volga's voice.

"Just don't fall any lower."

Uqba just glanced back, assuring vaguely, "Don't worry, Baron. From this point on, my mind is on nothing except the professional ring."

* * *

"Civil war is a terrible thing." Kujaku-Taishou mused aloud, "It sets neighbor against neighbor, friend and against friend and even family against family. Discord and disillusion played out in mortal men, and here tonight we present such a spectacle. Two students of the same school; friends, allies, brothers-in-arms, will compete for the right to challenge the Junior Champion for his title. The elder, a top ranked Junior Duelist and three year Senior of the Blitz Fist school, he is one hundred and ninety-five pounds of rippling muscle, and he's here to fight. Brock!" The dark-haired youth strolled steadily from the east, entering the ring plainly and paying little attention to the fans that bothered to cheer. He was on a mission. The painted speaker noted him with a nod and continued the introductions, "The other, his Senior in the school, yet two years younger, was already battling among legends as he crossed the threshold of puberty. One hundred and fifty pounds of ferocity, waiting to be unleashed, Gau!"

Like a leopard, he trotted in on all fours, bounding into the ring, only coming up onto his hind legs to take to the last few steps before Brock and Kujaku. Yet his face didn't hold the same resilience as his opponent's. If anything, he looked nervous. The spectators called out their encouragement in their usual cheers and noise makings, while the fighters met in the center of the ring. Offering suggestively as he held out his microphone, Kujaku-Taishou asked the usual, "Either of you care to say a few words before we begin? Boast? Brag? Just assure no hard feelings?"

Gau's eyes were glued to a spot on the floor between them, as Brock offered only, "There's nothing that needs saying." The green-haired boy made no move to speak. So the announcer turned away.

"This is it then. We wish luck to you both. Now, ring the gong." The signal sounded and Brock rushed in.

His fasts flew in a hurried pummeling attempt, strong enough to shatter a tree. Fists erupted at Gau, yet he dodged them quick and efficiently. With fluid, twisting movements, his body avoided the would-be critical blows and agile hands parried what blows he couldn't move away from. Surprised but still persistent, Brock's fists kept coming. He knew if he kept pressuring, he'd eventually catch the smaller boy with one shot and that would be enough to gain an opening. Or at least, he'd have to retreat, giving Brock the pace of the fight. But Gau gave neither. He just stood there, dodging and blocking Brock's mighty blows as if they were going in slow motion. "Stop… being… difficult!" Brock barked out in frustration between punches. "I'm trying… to make… this… quick… for you." His punches continued to rain down, unrelenting as he aimed for Gau's constantly shifting head. "I don't… want… to… hurt… you… worse… than I… have to! Wha…?" One of Gau's hands suddenly gripped Brock's forearm, and as he drew it back, the Wild Boy moved with it. In an instant the larger boy had Gau pressed to his back as lean arms cinched around his mid-section.

"I'm sorry." Gau's gruff voice came short and sincere from behind Brock.

"What?" The next thing he knew, his body was flipped backwards in a swiftly executed suplex, slamming his head, neck and shoulders into the mat. Pained and dazed, Brock fell to the mat, while Gau rolled away. Lying there, over the cheers of the crowd, the count began. It took Brock a second to realize that it was for him. His eyes fluttered open, focusing in on the sorrowful Wild boy, sat a few feet away, as the count reached five. 'Dammit. I let my guard down. I can't rush like that.' Shaken, but still strong, Brock pushed himself up to a stance, and the count stopped at eight. "Fine, fine, you got a lucky grab in. Don't expect that twice." He retook his stance, while Gau simply stood back up. Brock wasted no time, and moved in with a series of quick kicks and punches to throw Gau off balance. This time he succeeded in driving the smaller youth back, but still couldn't land a solid blow. Realization hit him like a kick to the side. No, that was a kick to the side. Gau had got in a sharp shot just below Brock's left ribs, but it did little to slow the larger fighter. Now favoring his right side, he continued with a couple of hard punches and a forward kick. Gau circled his opponents briefly weakened left, and Brock suddenly turned to defensive as he spun to meet the red-eyed boy, rather than give another opening. "No more free shots." Both moved in, exchanging a flurry of punches and kicks. The crowd boomed in excitement as the fight escalated. Brock took a couple of punches to his ribs, but succeeded with punches to Gau's shoulder and gut and the smaller boy was drawing back in retreat. 'Got you now!' He pursued Gau quickly, maintaining the assault. 'He's not fast enough to get away. As long as I stay in close range, my power will seal the deal.' Brock assured him self as he continued his blitzing assault on the retreating wild boy. The crowd booed the disappointing performance of the former Returner, who was on the receiving end of a pummeling by his underclassman. A quick and desperate move, Gau sidestepped to the left for in an apparent attempt to get away. 'No chance, my friend.' Quickly Brock spun left, throwing out a back hand punch, which Gau managed to parry, while rotating for a full round house kick. Brock's leg flew fast and sharp, and yet it missed.

Gau had spun as well. Bent over and crouched down with his back to Brock, the taller boy's leg passed right over him. He followed through with a surprise hooking back kick, catching the right side of Brock's face. His world shook with the unexpected blow. Barely getting his left eye open a second later, Gau was gone from his vision. A second later, the entire weight of the wild boy thrust into Brock's gut, as he was speared to the ground. The crowd cheered once more, while Gau rolled away again.

"That's a second down for Brock! 1-2-3!" Gripping his battered stomach as he lie on the ground, Brock let out a few choice swears as he looked around the ring for his friend and foe. "4-5-6" Gau was just sitting there like a waiting dog. He chewed his lip as he watched his fallen comrade, eyes filled with what could only be construed as pity. He didn't even seem damaged from the hits he had received. 'You're gonna look at me like that? So much for taking it easy on you.' Brock was back on his feet by the nine count. Mildly shaken, he drew a deep breath to replenish what was knocked out of him. Staring down at Gau, he waited for the Wild Boy to make the first move this time. He gestured for Gau to approach, inciting sharply, "Come on, don't just sit and stare."

"Okay." The wild boy gave a quick nod and stood upright. After a quick breath in, he charged in. Gau came in headlong, and Brock readied his counter. The wild boy closed in to the last three feet with no signs of stopping, so the taller brawler's fist unleashed with a clear headshot. Unbelievably it came up short, as Gau planted his right heel ahead of him for a sudden break. Leaned back at almost a sixty degree angle, he managed a quick twist of his waist to score a whiplash kick under Brock's arm before tumbling back to the mat. The kick resounded to Brock's heart, freezing him for an instant, while Gau rolled back away. But he didn't stay away. Planting his feet quick the wild boy leapt skyward and came down with a flying sidekick. Brock's arm came up just in time to block, and he followed with a sternum punch on the groundless boy. A fast shimmy of the midsection, and Brock's arm passed right beside Gau's abdomen. The wild boy grabbed the offered arm and came down on it with all his weight, wrenching Brock forward, just to receive a rushed elbow up to his face. Knocked back by the shot to his forehead, he was halted by the wrist Gau still held. A follow up front kick to the chest sent the older boy back again. He caught his footing just in time for Gau to rush in with a flurry of blows.

* * *

Alonso had been watching apprehensively. He figured from the beginning that Gau would take the win. But for Brock to be barely even offering him a challenge, was amazing. The shaven headed boy watch in awe as Gau's rapid assaults cut through Brock's strong armed defenses, steadily driving the larger boy back. With a shake of his head, Alonso took off running past the other fighters in the corridor through a side door and down the hall. He burst through the door of the medic room, calling out anxiously, "Master, You're missing it! Brock and Gau are fighting and-!"

"Shut up!" Alonso immediately quieted at his teacher's command. Sabin sat casually beside Carina's bedside as she still slept. "This is a place of healing. They don't need you running in here yelling like a low-bred imbecile." Indeed the doctor, nurses and patients were staring at him. He gave them all a brief bow and lowered his voice to compensate. "I'm sorry. But Master, they're-"

"It's alright. I don't need to see it." Sabin offered plainly as he reclined back into his chair.

"B-but…" Alonso began to speak, but as the sound of another count began from the hall, he relented and took off back toward the corridor to watch.

* * *

"6-7-8" The count ceased as Brock got back to his feet once more. His body wavered a bit unbalanced as he retook his stance. His right eye was beginning to swell from a few well placed shots, and his legs were weak from the gratuitous body shots he'd taken. Breathing heavy, since Gau kept breaking up his pace and knocking the wind from him with hard gut shots, Brock was in terrible shape compared to the Wild Boy. Barely looking like he was in a fight, Gau stood back, waiting patiently for Brock to regain his stance, when the official would signal to resume. The boy's eyes still held more pain than determination. That only motivated Brock to keep standing.

'I'm not going to get beat by someone with eyes like those.' Brock took his ready stance, and forced a shaky step forward. The official outside the ring signaled to continue. Gau grit his teeth and balled his fists. "Co-ome on. You can't… take me down. If you aren't… serious." Brock huffed out the response, hardly audible of the calls of the blood thirsty crowd. His fists rose to the ready, as he stepped in a bit closer.

"Stay… down." It was Gau's spoken response, as he stood there, eyes closed and body tense.

"Make me." Those red eyes opened slowly as Gau looked to his opponent. They held that same pity for only a second before shifting with a blink to a serious gaze. Gau gave a brief nod and then moved in. Met by Brock's still lively punches, Gau moved through unfazed. Pushing his way into the larger boy's chest, Gau led in with a series of short hooks into Brock's already battered chest. Holding strong the older fighter tried to close his arms around Gau in fierce bear hug. The wiry youth's frame though slid down before Brock's slowed reflexes could get a grip. Then grabbing to Brock's closed arms, Gau sprung back up, bashing a rocketed head butt into Brock's brow. The crash of their thick skulls echoed through the hall, inciting a ruckus of cheers, as they both stumbled back from the mutual damage. Dazed and blinking to get their vision straight again, it took them a moment before they were steady again. Still wobbling a bit, Brock spoke up, "That's more like it." Less injured, Gau struck forth again. A fast right-left combo struck Brock's shielding arms, but his slowed legs couldn't avoid a sharp hook kick to his thigh. The brawler forced himself to keep his footing, and lashed back with a mid-range smash. The hard punch grazed the side of Gau's head as he narrowly avoided trauma before coming back with a solid right straight. Brock blocked the punch, but Gau quickly had him by the shoulder, and with a quick pivot he drove a knee under the taller boy's defense for another painful gut shot. The Blitzer's solar plexus clenched in desperation, ceasing his breath and shuttered his large body, as he tried his best to avoid an elbow to the side of the face. The blow ground against his cheek and jerked his head aside. In desperation, Brock's arms whipped out for the body now so close to him. Gau found himself clenched tight by Brock's strong hold, one arm pinned and the other trapped by Brock's neck allowing no range of motion. The burly youth gave a wearied groan and dug his toes into the mat. Weakened as he was, Brock's superior size and leverage gave him the advantage as he pushed Gau back. They were close enough to the edge of the mat that Brock could push him off if he timed it right. The crowd sounded out in an incomprehensive mix shouted opinions too diverse to differentiate, and all either fighter could care about was their own struggle to gain traction to push against the other. Gau was losing the battle as he was forced toward the edge. 'Push, dammit. Push!' Brock chanted in his own mind as he drove toward the last yard. But over his mental mantra, came a feral growl from his opponent. The smaller boy's body fiercely twisted and writhed to get free, only managing to slow Brock's progress a bit. After wrenching and forcing the wild boy got his right arm free from behind Brock's neck and quickly thrust his hand up gripping Brock by his forehead. Thumb and pinky grinding into either of his temples and fingers digging into his scalp, Brock's head was forced back as Gau planted his feet. Brock gave a strained yelp while the snarling wild child straightened his arm out, pushing Brock by his face to force a way free. Stepping in fast, Gau forced a calf behind Brock and used the new position to push him over onto his back one more. Eyes uncovered and focusing once, more, Brock caught sight a lethal axe kick crashing down toward his face. His eyes shut tight in reflex as the crash exploded through his mind.

The audience's criers thundered through the Arena, practically shaking the whole structure with their stomping drumbeats. And Brock was starting to wonder why he was still hearing it. His eyes seemed to refuse to open to what they feared to find, as he had to force his lids to part. Brock found a foot rested beside his head as he stared up Gau's leg. The Wild Boy hovered over Brock, sneering down with an uncharacteristic ferocity.

"1-2-3-" Gulping down what strength he had left, Brock heard the counting and started rising up on his elbows to stand back up

"Stay down." It was a harshly breathed order from Gau. Brock glanced up, wondering if he could find the breath to make a retort. But the sharp canines that the green-haired boy bared toward him left no room for argument.

"4-5-6" Brock's body went limp back to the mat, as he just stared back up at the younger boy, with mix of awe and confusion. "7-8-9-10! It's over! Gau wins the match, and Uqba's challenge is met!" Applause, horns and drums sounded out throughout the Arena, as Kujaku-Taishou hurried into the ring. Laying there beneath his upperclassman, Brock watched Gau's snarling face melt away back to his normal countenance. The boy had that sorry look in his red eyes before he turned away and began walking off. Sitting up, Brock watched Gau walk away, right passed the feathered spokesman, who pestered him in passing. "Come on, Winner, don't just stalk off. The fans want to here from you. Hey… Hey…!" The Wild Boy just continued on toward the corridor. "Well, he sure got an ego fast. Lets go check with the persistent challen-."

"It will really hurt your popularity if you snub the fans, Gau." The boy stopped just outside the ring as he heard the call of the Champion. Everyone looked back to find Uqba entering the ring. "You need to at least say hello. And of course there's the times when you need to banter with opponents publicly. Let's practice that now."

"Oooo… The Champion comes out early for some trash talk. This should be fun." Kujaku skipped his way over to Gau, while Uqba shook his head.

"No, no, I have no plans of trash talking." The Champion stepped up in the ring as he spoke, "As a matter of fact, I truly respect Gau's prowess. While I may have dispatched his classmate faster, I probably wouldn't have been holding back like him." Brock glared angrily to the Champion, though given his position on the floor, he didn't quite have the bravado to speak up.

Gau on the other hand, had no qualms in replying in a growling tone, "Shut up, jerk!" Fans called out their agreement as the called out insults to the Champ and threw more trash into the ring.

Keeping a regal manner, Uqba calmly spoke back, "Now, now, beasty, I know you get a little worked up in a fight and need to calm down, so I'll forgive you for that." Gau's only response was an aggravated snarl into Kujaku's mike. Uqba fixed him with a half-sneer, but kept up his polite tone, "However, I can't be as forgiving in our match. You see, I take this battle against you as a very serious matter. You see, as far as I'm concerned, the Junior League is already behind me. My future awaits me in the professional ring, and I want to start that career off here tonight." A sly grin spread on his face as he stated succinctly, "Gau, I challenge you to face me tonight in this ring using Professional Duelist rules. All attacks, all weapons, all techniques legal, we fight until one falls or quits." The crowd roared in excitement at the prospect. "Do you accept?"

Gau stared back thoughtfully. Brow creased and head cocked, he considered the options against his Master's orders. "Well, Gau, what's it going to be?" Kujaku inquired from beside him, but still he didn't answer. He looked about at the screaming fans, who were blatantly calling for him to accept. For some measure of he looked to Brock, he just glanced at him blankly. The beaten fighter then just shook his head, turned away and rolled out of the ring. Gau watched him walk off down the Southern corridor, as everyone waited for the wild boy's answer.

"Come on, Returner." Uqba added in suggestively, "You helped eliminate the Dark God Kefka himself. You couldn't possibly be afraid of me. So what's the answer?"

"I… um…." Gau stuttered unsurely as the crowd began chanting the word "Yes".

"He accepts." With the stern answer the audience boomed in excitement. Gau looked about in surprise, just to find Sabin standing at the Southern entrance with a microphone. Master and student's sights locked a moment, as Gau stared to him in disbelief. Sabin just gave the boy a sharp nod, which Gau returned unsurely.

"Splendid!" Uqba cried out happily and turned a quick bow to the elder Duelist. "Thank you for your permission, Master Sabin. You've made everyone here very happy." The crowd in turn cheered on, and many began chanting the name of "Sabin".

The blonde fighter scoffed in return, offering to Uqba in warning, "We'll just see how long yu stay happy about this." The Champion's grin quirked, but didn't fall as he watched Sabin make his departure. Quickly Gau forsook his own block's corridor as he hurried south after his Master.

Proudly Uqba spoke out, "I promised you all a battle of greatest proportions for my last feat in this Junior League, and it will be delivered. You will see the strength of two of the finest young competitor's here tonight. This is I swear is something you will never want to forget!" The audience cried out in eager reply, as Uqba held out his arms to accept their directionless praise.

From beside the ring, below the cheers and clatter, Kujaku-Taishou meekly spoke up, "Hey… that's my job."

* * *

_Wow... I can't believe I originally planned to do this intro arch in one chapter. Now it's into the fourth. But at least it will be done soon. Not to mention, the fated face-off between Gau and Uqba! Finally I get to throw around some grand Ki attacks! And so I shall. _  



	4. with the first step

_The battle of Uqba and Gau: I hope it meets expectations. BTW... Ki attacks, if you don't already know, would be manipulations of ones own spiritual energy, causing some physical world effect. So Sabin's Blitzes, Cyan's Sword Techs, and such augmented physical effects fit into this category. Also, note that the counting when a fighter is down is done in 3 second bits, so effectively a Duelist has 30 seconds to get back on his feet. That's just something I wanted to point. Well... read as you please, and review to please me._

_

* * *

_

**  
Duelist's Law**

**Chapter 4: … with the first step.**

**-Lunauc**

"Master Sabin! Master Sabin!" Gau called out as he galloped down the corridor on all fours at inhuman speed. The blonde fighter stopped at the door to the back halls as his pupil came skidding to a stop before him.

"What is it Gau?"

"Master… I.. I.." Sabin rose an impatient brow to the crouched boy's stuttering. Realizing his Master's annoyance quickly, Gau caught him self as spoke sincerely, "Is this really okay?" Sabin didn't answer right away. He just turned around and began down the hall.

Over his broad shoulder, he offered, "You wanted to test yourself, didn't you?"

"Y-yes." Gau agreed as he rose up on two legs to follow.

"Well, you aren't testing yourself to enter the Junior Leagues, are you?"

"No, but…"

"Then this is a better test." Sabin insisted as he stopped outside the medic room to turn back to Gau. The boy looked unsure, and his odd head lulled aside as he watched his teacher quizzically. "Fighting a guy with as much talent and strength as Uqba is hard enough with the limiting rules of the Junior League. But it doesn't prove that you can take the pressure of the professional world. In matches where almost anything goes, power and talent only get you so far. So if you want to show me that you can make it in the world stage, then first you have to get through this fight." Gau blinked back in thought as he stared back. It was only a short moment though before he returned a stiff nod of agreement. "Good. Don't fuck it up." Sabin stated firmly before heading into the medic room. Gau followed him in to find Alonso waiting beside Carina, who was finally sitting up with the help of several pillows.

"Carina!" The wild boy called as he hopped over by her bedside. "You alright now?" She gave a grin and a light giggle to the return of his childish visage and gave him a quick pat on the head.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine. I just messed up." Carina assured him as he dropped to a crouch by her bed, resting his head on the side.

Sabin moved to stand over them, nodding along as he amended, "Yeah, you let the pressure get to you, and you let him control the match. You could have put up a better showing if you had relaxed."

Carina's expression shifted quick from peaceful to aggravated, and Alonso mimicked to the look as the turned back to their Master, the former bickering at him, "Who's fault is that Mr. Uqba's biggest fan?"

"Yeah!" Alonso reiterated, "You go talk up all his strengths and expect her not to be nervous, whose side are you on?"

"Wha-wha… uh… I… it was… I mean…" Sabin stammered for a reply. Usually the one in control, he hated when his students got him caught in a corner like this.

"Master Sabin's Uqba's fan?" Gau asked curiously to Carina.

Plainly she answered, "Apparently so."

"What!" Sabin blanched as Gau hung his head.

"So he wants me to lose?"

"Seems so." Alonso hypothesized with a nod, before getting a slap to the back of the head.

"Don't make up crap like that!" Sabin shouted at his suggestive students

"Master Figaro!" The sharp voice stopped him instantly. The doctor stared him down sternly, and she cited firmly, "This is a place of healing, show some control. You're supposed to be a role model for these kids after all."

"I'm sorry, Doctor." Sabin offered with a quick bow, as many of the young fighters, his own students included began snickering at him. An annoyed growl burst out, and he called out once more, "I said shut up!"

"Master Figaro!"

* * *

"In accordance with Professional Standards, the ring has been lowered down to the floor. There will be no more ring-out victories. Thick glass barricades are raised to shield the audience from projected Ki and magic attacks and anything else that may come flying there way. After all, we wouldn't my Lil Chickee-babies getting all banged up. And do you know what the best thing of all about a Professional match is, Dolan?" Kujaku aksed the senior official as they both strolled into the ring, whilst the workers secured the glass barricade.

The elder gentleman in striped vestments eagerly responded, "Without a doubt, my boy, it is the excitement factor. Two powerful competitors showing everything they've got and pushing the limits of the human body as they face off in winner take all combat."

"No, you silly old fool!" Kujaku-Taishou cried belittlingly into his microphone, before happily announcing, "The best part of a Professional bout is the play-by-play announcement, by yours truly, Kujaku-Taishou!" He gave out a peacock cry as his fans cheered him on. Dolan just rolled his eyes dramatically at the bravado. "That's right, Chickee-babies, I'll be taking over the live radio broadcast and for your benefit, the play-by-play will be sent over the Arena's loud speakers, so you can all bask in my glorious vocalizations!" He posed for the audience, while the senior official reached over to snatch the young man's mike away.

"In spite of that distraction…" The old man actually got a few chuckles as he peered down the youth. Confidently he spoke, "This should prove to be one heck of good fight for us all. The Champion's strength is well known and today we'll even get to see the strength no one's gotten to know about up until now. Gau on the other hand, who knows what we'll see? He's a senior classman in the Blitz Fist school, so we might be seeing some of their signature techniques, but I'm sure everyone's really anxious to see the infamous bestial Rage the boy supposedly used during the Last War." Scattered cheers sounded off at mention of Gau's supposed Rage, and a small group even began howling out. Apparently the wild boy already earned a personalized cheer.

Kujaku looked about apprehensively at the cheering fans, and quickly snatched back his microphone. "Yes, of course that's what we're all excited about. Thank you for stating the obvious." He talked belittlingly to the Official, "Please leave the audience appeal to professionals like myself."

Dolan gave a heavy sigh and leaned forward to speak into the mike, "Fine, I'll be at the broadcast desk when you're done showing off." He turned away from the painted youth and began toward the side door up to the announcing table, as Kujaku-Taishou grinned at his departure.

"Right then, leh… wait a minute." Kujaku shot a curious eye toward the old man behind the glass, as he plopped down at the broadcast desk. "You're broadcasting with me!"

Dolan waved back at him through the glass, speaking into his own microphone, "That's right, Featherhead."

* * *

In the silence of the evacuated locker room, Uqba took his time strapping on his armoring bracers. His legs already sheathed to the waist in darkened mithril plates, and arms covered from shoulders down to his armored fingers, he wore them proudly. Taking great care he adjusted the last straps under his left arm while listening to the announcers bicker as they prepared for his match. This moment, felt so… decisive. Right here he would prove whether or not his years of training had really meant anything. Here he'd learn his starting place in the World. A battle with what could be considered a living legend, a monster in human flesh. If this didn't prove his strength, what would? His armor in place, he flexed his arms beneath the form fitting plates, getting into a comfortable position. He had no trouble with that. Through all the training this armor had become like a second skin. It shielded him. It magnified him. With this he wouldn't lose. His fingers curled into a fist of solid metal. Looking down at it, he couldn't help but grin. For the first time in the ring, this fist would feel flesh.

"All dressed for the big dance?" Uqba looked up to Volga, who stood in his regal robes beside a row of lockers. Casually he joked, "And me without my picture-box…" He gave a weak snigger at his little joke, and his student gave a meager grin. The Baron let out a heavy sigh and stepped sluggishly forward, glancing down the hall toward the ring as he approached. "It's really become some kind of circus. If you kids don't tear each other apart, the fans might just do it for you."

Uqba risked a chuckle, and confidingly agreed, "Yeah, I guess this did get a little out of hand. Don't worry though, I won't disappoint them. After all I have a reputation to maintain." He offered the Baron a weak smile while stepping toward the tunnel entrance, waiting for his introduction." The elder fighter waited beside him. Down the tunnel, Kujaku-Taishou was bantering with a group of fans, wasting time with silly entertainment as the fighter's prepared. It was only a matter of moments now.

"Forget your reputation."

Uqba quirked his head aside to his mentor's odd words. "What do you mean?"

Volga turned a stern face to his student, and spoke sincerely, "Listen, Punk, I've trained you to fight and win. I've always chosen your opponents in an order for you to steadily grow stronger with each battle, but each time you had a reasonable ability to win. Then you eventually got too strong for any of the junior competitors to challenge you. Still, you waited and trained under me until you'd be strong enough to surely win against your first Professional opponents." Uqba listened respectfully as the older man spoke, "The same way, I'd choose your opponents one at a time, to help you grow along the way. Boy, I honestly believe you'll be the World Champion Someday." His heavy, calloused hand touched down on Uqba's shoulder. "But this fight, here today, it hasn't got anything to do with that. We don't know this kid. We don't know his strengths or his weaknesses. All I do know is that Sabin never let him compete, because he was too dangerous in Master Figaro's opinion. You're flying blind against the gods only know what. So for today, forget about impressing people. Forget about being the Champion. As of this moment, you are officially the Challenger. So fight like one dammit. The only thing you have to think about is facing this opponent and coming out on top. Understood?" Volga dropped his hand and stood up straight, managing to look down his nose at the taller man.

Uqba was still for only a moment. Giving a respectful bow to his trainer, he assured firmly, "Teacher, I will do my best."

Br

In the opposite locker room a crew of the lost fighters was assembled around Gau to cheer on their great hope of knocking Uqba down a notch. Alonso and Carina had been escorted to front row seats, while Sabin waited aside talking with one of the Officials. Brock had taken off right after his match with Gau. He had given no word, and a bit of guilt was wearing on the wild boy. But right now, he had no time to worry over such things. Especially since his cheering section was so busy giving their two cents.

"Remember he leads with the left a lot to weaken his opponents down."

"Use submission holds if you can. That way, he can't punch, and you can choke him out."

"Work the ribs. If he can't rotate the body, he can't put everything into his fists."

"He doesn't kick to often, but when he does, avoid it. It means he's found a weak spot and it is going to hurt."

"Please kick him in the face for me. Bastard broke my nose last year."

"Yeah, Rapify this creep! He's long over due for an ass kicking."

Gau's head turned side to side between the different speakers, nodding idly to them, even though he wasn't catching everything they said. "Uuuuhhhh…" Fortunately, his Master offered him an out."

"Gau, over here."

"Right." As he hopped from the bench and hustled to meet his teacher, he called back to the fighters, "Thank you for the advice. I'll try hard!" They gave their goodbyes and well wishes as they began dispersing to go take their seats, and Gau stopped before Sabin. "Yes, Master?"

"The fight's about to start. You ready?"

Gau nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, Master."

"Good." Sabin turned back to the Official, he glanced curiously to Gau. "You can tell them to…"

"Are… you sure you're ready?" The stripe robed man, cut in to re-question the boy. "You know that in a Professional bout you can use any weapons and armor you please, right?"

Gau nodded back, answering truthfully, "Yes, but I don't know how to use weapons. And armor's just gets in the way."

"Um…. Right." The Official gave a brief nod and turned to leave. "I'll let them know to begin now. Good Luck."

"Thank you!" Gau called after him, as he just shook his head in disbelief. Glancing up to Sabin, he commented gladly, "Seems like a lot of people want me to win. They all wish me luck."

Sabin slowly cocked his head down, replying sternly, "Wearing no armor in this competition, I think they're just hoping you survive."

"OOoooaaaaaaa….."

* * *

"It's time to let loose the beasts and see how they battle." Kujaku took his spot center stage as he called the introductions, "Our final duelists are armed, ready and anxious to bleed each other for your amusement!" The audience cried out their excitement, as Kujaku called back his Peacock cry. "This is it. Enough Hype, enough, build up, it's time to Start This BATTLE!" The applause and noise makers sounded off and Kujaku-Taishou only cried out to talk over them, "First out, our Challenger, the Child Warrior of the Returners. The Wild Child of the Blitz Fist. Kefka's Eternal Nightmare. The one and only, GAU!" The green-haired boy came bounding out on all fours. He stopped before Kujaku and gave a quick look around the crowd. The announcer though, wasted no time before continuing, "And your Champion, the next Great Duelist of Baron Volga's Iron Mountain School. The Crushing Tyrant's Fist. The Man who has sworn to make Figaro his springboard toward the World Title, UQBA!" The Arena was practically thundering with cheers and drumbeats and stomping feet of the capacity crowd, as the Champion made his first appearance in the ring bearing his armored sleeves and leggings. His eyes locked with Gau's in determined approach. The Wild Boy's gaze stayed locked on him as they zeroed in on the center of the ring. Both were set. Both were anxious And neither was about to back down. "Any last words, boys?" Gau shook his head quickly, and Uqba gave a passing sweep of his hand. "Alright, all business it is. Let me get out of your way, so we can start this party rolling." He gave out one last Peacock call, which his fans gladly returned, as he made off for the door to the Announcer's booth.

As he got the reinforced door shut, Dolan, who waited at the desk, spoke over his microphone, "You just had to do the big flashy introduction from out there, when we have perfectly good microphones in here? Now everyone's got to wait for you to get out of the way."

Closing the lock on the door, Kujaku dropped into his seat, biting back, "Hey, I take pride in my work. Don't question it."

"What pride?" Dolan bit back insinuatingly, "You just like to dress up like a weirdo and gallivant in front of people for attention. Now sit down and show some respect for this Noble sport."

Indignantly, Kujaku retorted, "I show nothing but respect, you Stinking Old Twit! Now somebody ring the damn gong already!" The metal's clash sounded and the excited calls of the crowd drowned out Kujaku's grumbling, as the motions of the fighter's were all that mattered now.

Yet, they didn't move. Both young fighters stared each other down. Standing in their ready poses, either waited for the other to make the first move. When facing an opponent who can kill with a single attack one should never rush. Steady, patient, evaluating each other with trained eyes they awaited the first impact to set the tone. The crowd was wild in their calls for violence, but the fighters ignored them, or tried to anyway. Uqba's years in the Arena allowed him to drown out the cries of the spectators with ease. Gau on the other hand, wasn't use to this kind of ruckus attention. And without the active distraction of a heated battle, his eyes involuntarily shifted to the screaming multitudes surrounding them. That was the crucial moment. The tanned fighter rushed in with a hard punch for Gau's chest. The wild boy's instincts kicked in just in time to dodged back from the mithril fist and once more catch the steely gaze of Uqba. Those hard eyes seemed to scream at him, 'pay attention,' and Gau surely wouldn't disobey that again. The Champion's punch missed by a narrow inch, raising the hairs on the Wild's boy's neck as it passed over his shoulder. Hastily he hopped back to gain ground, but the Champion was on top of him quickly, leaning in with a murderous left hook. The metal arm swooped over Gau's turned head, clipping the tip of his ear and tearing out a couple strands of errant hair in harsh passing. No time to get away, Uqba followed with a right straight, which the wild boy barely blocked aside. Still the mithril banded contact stung his lean arm. And Uqba was no where near ready to stop. He pushed on with a flurry of lethal blows, which Gau's heightened instincts narrowly helped him avoid. He tried his best to find a rhythm with this opponent, measure his body's intent and react. But, something about this place made it so different. Usually the wild boy could rely on all of his senses to gather information. His predatory ears could practically hear a heartbeat. Tremor sensitive hands and feet would almost allow him to feel every move his opponents made. A nose worthy of a hungry predator could sense the sweat of exhaustion and every quick breath his prey would take. But here, in this over packed Arena, none of that was possible. The odor of a packed crowd, refreshments and littered garbage filled the air. The thundering beats and stomps of the crowd practically shook the ground, and all Gau could hear were their maddened cheers. And somewhere behind that were the amplified voices of the announcers.

Kujaku: "Ooo… The Champ starts it off with a ferocious volley. Gau's doing everything he can just to avoid death here."

Dolan: "True, if that boy doesn't do something quick, this is going to be a very short title defense."

Kujaku: "Don't worry the riot of the fans should last longer."

A frustrated growl rose in the back of the green-haired boy's throat as he did everything he could to block and dodge the monstrous assault of the larger youth. Gau's arms ached numbly just from the glancing collisions of the Champions deflected blows, signaling the true damage one could do with full impact. In this position it was a losing battle. He had to get away. In a desperate ploy, he thrust forth his foot what could be considered an ankle kick, but ended up stepping on Uqba's forward foot instead. Crouching quickly he kicked off from the momentarily halted fighter and still had to suck in his stomach to avoid a torso punch. Tumbling backwards, he stopped on all fours and looked up just in time to see Uqba closing in with another strong straight punch. Employing the tactics that had worked all day, he took to a hasty shoulder roll aside, and felt the scratch of a plated leg sweep across his back in a minute miss. Unsteady, run by adrenaline, Gau rolls to avoid another swift kick and desperately makes a bid for freedom with a leopard's leap. Even with his senses stunted, he can feel the thump of Uqba's feet through the mat. The wild boy's head turns quick to see the Champion closing in with a hurried yet controlled pace. Powerful arms closed in tight but ready to spring. Legs close and sturdy, he comes forward like a rolling tank, menacing and invulnerable. Heart racing and breath hurried, Gau tries to stop and contemplate in the split-second he is afforded, 'Can't strike head on. He's ready to counter. Can't get around him fast enough to attack from behind. Armor will guard from the side. Can only try to get inside. Sucking in a deep breath, the wild boy gave him self a quick nod and stood to meet the Champion's next attack.

Weaving his head quickly he dodged Uqba's entering one-two combo. Rushing in, he pushed his way toward Uqba's chest ducking below a fierce left hook. A right straight lined for the green-haired boy, but he wasn't worried, he found the spot he wanted easier than he ever expected. He let Uqba's last punch fly, and after this, his retaliation would begin. A loud 'Kiai' cried from the larger duelist as he fist shot forth with inhuman force. At ultra close range, Gau dodged it easily. He thought he had anyway. A thundering boom drowned out the crowd and a tremendous force, like a being run over by a rampaging buffalax, battered Gau's body. The world shook from his eyes and sense of gravity left him as he felt as sleek frame wrenched about with sickening force. Agonizingly prolonged seconds passed as the rattling in his mind resettled. Vision still unfocused and body shivering from the traumatic impact, he could only wonder, 'What just hit me?'

Kujaku: "Holy Alexander! What the Hell was that?"

Dolan: "Gau took a real beating there, and I didn't even see the attack, did you?"

Kujaku: "No! I could have sworn he dodged Uqba's punch."

Dolan: "Well here he comes again, is Gau ready to avoid this one?"

Indeed, Uqba was approaching quickly. When Gau caught a hasty sight of him, he was shocked by the distance of their separation. 'I must have been knocked halfway across the ring.' Uqba twist round and led in with a spiking heel kick at the still half prone boy. Gau's body ached in disagreement as he forced it to move again too soon, barely avoiding the stomp of the champion's foot. But then again, the world was washed over in trembling fury, and Gau felt his body racked by pain and nausea as his body was tossed by unseen force cracking flat against the thick glass border set to defend the crowd, before slumping lifeless to the floor.

In the ring yellow lights flashed to alert uqba to stop fighting as the count began. Across the ring, the other blitzer's sat in near panicked worry. "What the hell's going on!" Alonso yelled out as he stood to pound his fist against the glass. "What's that bastard do!" Carina sat beside him, one leg raised on a on a small crate and scooted to the end of her seated in anxious frustration. Gripping towel in a shivering death grip, she watched fearfully for some movement from her downed friend.

In contrast, Sabin seemed for the most part calm as he sat beside his students. Idly he mused to himself, "So, that's what Volga's been teaching him." He gave a bemused snicker, though his fingers were discreetly busy boring white marks into his arms in stressful grip.

"1-2-3-4"

Gau's eyes rolled back into place, though he couldn't quite remember what he had been doing. Pushing up his head from the mat he could see his hands beneath him, shaking, or was that just his vision. He groaned at a painful ringing in his ears, and his head felt like it had been creamed by a fallen boulder. 'What happened?'

"5-6"

"Hhooooo…" The cries of a thousand voices called his head to rise, and curiously he glanced around. He wasn't at home. That was for sure. But where else would he be waking up? Low stone walls, floors of taut white leather, screaming people- What was that ringing? His neck hurt, his back hurt, his chest hurt, and that was just from craning his head up to look around. Bright lights above, the floor seemed to quake beneath him as if a stampede were heading his way. 'Strange place.' Then he saw it. The figure was blurred by his effected eyes, but he could make out the dark outline. Towering over him, dark and strong, the wild boy could feel its malicious aura; hungry; restless; predator. 'Can't be prey.' Instinct spoke to the confused boy's mind. 'Can't be.'

"7-8"

Alonso was practically strangled by aggravation, but still he demanded, "It can't end this quick! Can it? Is he really that strong?"

"You never know." The youth turned to his somber speaking teacher, "In a real battle you never know what an opponent will throw at you." Staring at his teacher almost mystified by the ominous context, Alonso almost forgot the situation, until he heard Carina's desperate plea.

"No, no, stay down!" She whispered it just loud enough to qualify as a quiet scream. Watch the match, she practically shivered as she begged with tearing eyes, "Don't get up!"

"9-t…."

The count ceased as the wild boy managed to barely draw his quivering body up to a weak stance against the wall. Breathing hard, hands planted against glass to keep him from falling, he trembled like a newborn standing for the first time, or an old trying to stand his last. The count ceased, but if he didn't move soon the Arena Doctor would call the match for safety. Uqba scrutinized the weakened figure through triumphant eyes. The match had barely started and he practically had it won. Before him, the so called legend could barely stand. On the other side of the glass, fans nearby pressed in close to view his condition. Some cheered him some mocked him, a couple of kids in the front row even pressed against the glass, enthusiastically encouraging. 'You better decide quick or you'll really disappoint them further.' Uqba mused confidently, 'Don't worry, after this you never have to fight again.'

Dolan: "It's not looking so good for the young Blitzer. Only two shocks from the Champion and the boy can barely stand."

Kujaku: "Yeah, what was that? It was like a bomb went off in his face."

Dolan: "I can't be one hundred percent certain though I'm pretty sure it was a high level Ki attack of some sort.

Kujaku: "Well, I figured that much, you dumb geezer."

Dolan: "Then be quiet, and pay attention. I can see from here, Doctor Gifford is in the official's box speaking with the referee. Is she going to stop the match?"

The audience resounded with fierce cries to action. The match they'd waited all day for couldn't end so quickly. It couldn't be this disappointing. They lashed out with spewed curses and thrown garbage crashing against the glass. Group clapping and fight chanting sung out, and still the former Returner youth set against the glass, unmoving save for the heavy rise and fall of his torso with each breath. 'So, this is all you really had? What a disappointment.' Uqba shook his head woefully. 'I can't believe I built up so much for this.'

GroOOOAAarrrwwrrr…

The Champion's breath caught at the feral emission, that erupted from the hunched from of Gau. The crowd behind the glass jumped back, a couple of men literally falling over their seats from the sudden shock. One woman gave a brief shriek and the children dove back from the glass and into their mother's arms. Still growling lightly, Gau's feline frame trembled lightly at the exertion of his strained muscles. His fingers dug into the glass like a bear's claws trying to sink into bark and his body tensed as if he were about to bound forth into the audience. Staring back at him, there was fear and awe in the eyes of the crowd who sat before him. Uqba watched perplexed as one older man made a sanctifying gesture, starting to pray and one of the small children ducked into his mother's lap, crying loudly. Jaw clenched tight, fists gripped and ready, Uqba stared at Gau's shivering back wondering beyond anything, 'What do they see in his face?' One long nailed hand scraped down from the glass, and Uqba found his body gave an involuntary flinch. Angrily he cursed himself, 'Shit! The guy barely moved. Besides, he's half dead. Relax!' Gau's body rose with a deep inhale and slowly he began to turn. Uqba's lungs forced out a breath he wasn't even aware he'd been holding. Retaking his fighting stance, he waited with apprehension. The green light wasn't even on yet, neither could attack yet, but all he could focus on were Gau's eyes, waiting as they shifted into the armored boy's stationary view. And the Champion felt it like a shock.

Kujaku: "Finally some life from Gau. It doesn't look they're going to stop it yet. But can he fight like that?"

Dolan: "I suppose we'll find out."

Blood red orbs; gleaming with murderous intent… Brows pinched and noise drawn up in to the twisted visage of a demonic cat. Mouth splayed in exceptional width baring yellowed teeth with oversized fangs, unfit for a human. Uqba couldn't even tear his eyes away to blink. This face, so strange, so alien, it was all he could do to keep his stance in such oddly frightening presence. His fists were ready, they were begging to lash out, to cast this thing away. All he could wonder was, 'What am I looking at?'

Gong

The beat sounded as the green light flashed. The doctor was letting them continue. Gau flinched at the sudden color flash from aside and blinked his eyes. It was as if the beast had melted away. He lost that feral intensity like a fallen mask, and now the shaken youth's face was clear again to the Champion, and yet, he couldn't make his body move to take advantage. Was it just some illusion he saw, some phantasm of his over-expectant mind? Or was something so truly dark and horrible standing before him?

'Ow, ow, ow…' Gau breathed deep and controlled, trying to get his shaken nervous system back in alignment as he stood to continue. 'No more going inside. Don't know what it was, but it hurt!' His hands raised and he was in fighting stance once more, though his legs were still wobbling a bit beneath him.

Mentally slapping him self back to attention, Uqba squared off, ready to continue. 'No time for phantoms, just beat this one opponent.' He stepped in leading in with a left jab. Gau ducked aside and found him self stumbling away. Uqba, meanwhile, relented over how stiff his body was feeling. 'Dammit, relax!' Forcing the image of the beast from his mind, He pressed his assault, lashing out with a flurry of hard punches which Gau did everything he could to avoid.

Dolan: "Back underway, and once more the Champion has control."

Kujaku: "Greenie isn't looking so good. He almost looks like he's going to topple over at any moment."

Dolan: "True, that is some resilience to come back from damage like that."

Duck, weave, turn, block, Gau walked the tightrope above devastation as Uqba's fist fired by him. The wild boy's legs strained to move with his desires and barely blocked punches threatened to knock him back to the mat. Still feeling the effects of whatever exploded into him, he was clearly on the short end of the stick. An upper cut whizzed by his face, and a trailing left hook tore toward his head. He wrenched his abs to draw down into a crouch, and his knees almost buckled beneath him. Stuck for a second his body shook in response to a mighty 'Kiai'. His arms rose up to guard his head as his body balled in defense, just before another explosion rattled his mind and sent his body tumbling aside.

"Gau!" Carina called out fearfully as Ugba's straight punch whipped over his body, and some invisible force knocked him away like a croquet ball.

"No way!" Alonso cried out, "He didn't even touch him. What the hell's going on!"

Kujaku: "The Champion's Miracle Strike explodes again! What the Hell is that!"

Sabin shifted his crossed arms as he drew a deep breath before speaking, "It's called…"

Dolan: "Thunder Sleeves."

Kujaku/Alonso: "What?"

While the audience cheered and applauded, Dolan spoke sagaciously, "Thunder Sleeves, or rather a variation of it I believe. It was a Ki technique designed by Baron Volga him self. So, it's no surprise his student might use it. However, the Baron's technique was meant mostly as a defensive maneuver to deal with close quarters opponents."

Kujuku just blinked back at him, "Huh?"

Back in the stands, Sabin explained to his student further, "He uses his charka to cut a path through the air like lightning does in the sky. Thunder is produced from the shockwave as air is violently returned to the into the vacuum and the molecules collided together. However, in this case, when the air rushes back, it's met with that steel arm and bounces back, causing that burst of force that keeps knocking Gau around like a rag doll."

"Damn." It was all Alonso could think to say.

Gau was crouched but stable in the ring. Rolled a few yards away by the force, he seemed to have avoided most of the brunt, but was still visibly trembling from the force. More than anything the ringing in his sensitive ears was really getting to him. His teeth clenched in argument and his spine felt like it was trying to curve down away from the sharp sound. Groaning angrily, he shook his head, trying to cast it off like some persistent bug. 'Shit! Gotta do something. Can't take much more of this.' His head cocked aside as Uqba turned to him with a smug grin. His gall was back, and he wouldn't let it slip again. Hustling Gau's way, the champion launched in to the air, coming down on the crouched boy with another spiking kick. This time though, he had the strength to leap away. The burst erupted behind him, as he somersaulted into a handspring and landed, somewhat unsurely, a few yards away. Uqba's eyes turned to him hungrily, though his body didn't follow right away. The wild boy's gauged him cautiously, as he took a second before relieving from the ending position of his kick. The red-eyed boy quirked a brow at the odd pause, though he had little time to contemplate it. The dusk-skinned duleist turned on the wild boy again. Gau stood ready as possible. The fists of the Champion lashed out, following the beaten body of the blitzer. Like a snake trying to avoid an eagle's talons, Gau swiveled side to side barely staying alive as a few too fast punched clipped his shoulders and sides, making him groan aloud. But still he danced from the lethal blows and retorted with a few quick punches of his own, catching Uqba with a couple of meager body shot. Such retaliation was futile though. Putting everything into evasion he couldn't any strength behind his own attacks, and he wouldn't be able to as long as that exploding attack awaited him. If he couldn't get past that, he was lost.

In his hurried retreat from Uqba's solid fists, Gau's ankle gave out in brief moment of exhaustion. He staggered back only a step before catching himself. But for Uqba it was enough of an opening. "Kiai!" Gau's eyes went wide as that right straight flew at him once more. Legs extended, stance unsteady. He wouldn't be able to jump aside in time, even ducking would barely get him aside and te blast would be right in his face again. So, without even considering consequence his arms shout up in a strong cross-arms block, catching the punch dead center. His weakened stance let him be knocked back with the force of the punch before the actual explosion. His body tensed in fear and his eyes closed tight. In a sudden burst it erupted, concussive winds beat down his stomach and legs and brushed harshly over his forehead, whipping his green mane about his head. But... he was still standing.

'I'm… alive?' Cautiously Gau reopened opened one eye. Uqba glared back at him, stock still as they faced off. The champion's fist was still extended, like a menacing arrow aimed for Gau's heart. Yet, he wasn't moving. No matter, Gau wasn't really up to it yet either. In brief second passed and Uqba let out a grunt before releasing his stance and striking out with another left hook.

"Hell yeah! He stood through!" Alonso cried out happily along with the shouting fans. "That's the way Gau!" Even Carina was a bit more relaxed by that, though still rung her hand towel in fierce, white-knuckled grip.

"He found the safety zone." Sabin noted casually. His students and a group of fans gathered around him, turned to listen, "The Thunder Sleeve technique focuses about ninety-five percent of its power out away from the arms, blasting the force out to the sides. That's why he uses long straight punches and kicks, so that the backlash doesn't hit his own body or face. However, it has barely any power is if you stand right in front of it. Hence, safety zone, but it means staying out of striking range yourself if you're going to avoid it. That's one of the reasons it's meant more for defense than attack."

"One of…?" Alonso began to ask, but Sabin silenced him with a gesture and pointed toward the ring.

Gau was again dodging from Uqba's punches with quick instinctive movement. He still looked weakened and near wobbling, but this time, his eyes were alive. Uqba noted it curiously, but pressed his attack. Urgently, he intended to put this boy down one final time. The green-haired youth weaved away from a fierce volley and tried to dance aside to flank, but Uqba reared on him quickly, punching hard and decisive. Gau tripped back to avoid the blow and Uqba grinned at another opening. "Kiai!"

The wild boy returned the grin strangely as he saw the punch coming. Twisting his knee quickly, he kicked off and hopped back from the blast range. A pounding boom vibrated the air and Uqba's trunks and hair whipped from the force as Gau watched him with predatory eyes. Once more, the Champion wasn't moving. A sly snicker cleared the clever boy's throat, and Gau didn't waste a second. Uqba gritted his teeth as his opponent pounced forth. A reaping left shook the Champion's face as the crowd burst into applause for some reply from the wild boy. His right followed instantly, smashing into Uqba's gut. A fierce volley of undefended punches followed, ravaging the armored youth's exposed torso and head.

Sabin spoke ominously, "Second weakness; it takes a lot of chakra focus to execute and defend from the force of the blast. So… you freeze up a second after using it."

"Haha.. Go, Gau! Put his ass down!" Alonso cheered at the good news.

Carina blinked away most of the moisture from her eyes to join in, "Yay! Come on! Don't lose it now!"

Uqba's head jerked back from another fist to his jaw. He could taste the blood in his mouth. His organs felt like they were on fire from the Gau's sudden pummeling. This had to end now. Another punch landed to his ribs, and Uqba could feel it snap. Yet in spite of his pain, his no longer paralyzed hand hastily grabbed Gau's wrist. With a hard tug he jerked the green-haired boy forward a leaned into him with an uppercut to the solar plexus. He heard the smaller boy gag in pained response. Uqba rose released the wrist to line up a left hook, but felt him self thrown off balance by a quick jab to the nose. Reflexively, he grabbed the arm to his shoulder forced a knee to Gau's gut. The wild boy staggered back, but Uqba pursued with a punch to his cheek, the flesh rending between teeth and metal.

Kujaku: "Now we're into a real fight."

Dolan: "Hell, yeah, we've got a real slobber-knocker going on!"

Kujaku: "A what?"

Dolan: "Shut up."

They exchanged powerful blows, some missing some connecting with painful result. For half of a minute the mob cheered on their mutual destruction. Beaten and bloody, both boys hammered away at each other, finding common ground in their burning lungs and anguished muscles. Carina turned her head away in sickened worry, as Sabin reached an arm over to pat her shoulder supportively. Alonso meanwhile cheered along, "Come on, Gau! You can still win this! Put that Bastard down already!"

'Steady. Strong. Fast. Just put… him… down.' Uqba coached to his own conscious mind as his punches cut the air, grazing Gau's sides and arms, narrowly missing vital spots. He was just as tired, just as hurt. Ugba was sure. But he'd come out on top, he had to. He glanced Gau's eyes then, curious of the life he'd find in the. But he found something much more unsettling. Blood red, bared fangs, the demon was back. For a brief instant the Champion's heart skipped, but his refused to let his body stop. 'No' "Kiai!"

The attack was hasty, thoughtless, but it was dead on, Gau was right in the danger zone and he had no time to avoid. He could think in time, so he just acted on instinct. As Uqba punched, so did her. The wild boy felt his knuckles split on contact with the mithril forearm, and Uqba's arm was knocked aside. Latent chakra erupted between the battered young men, blasting them with a mighty gust of wind that stung their eyes and scratched at their skin. Dazed but standing they were both conscious. One more than the other, as Uqba felt hands grip to his shoulder's for support. He glanced down to the Gau's sneering face. His fierce red eyes rolled back into place just before he rocketed upward, crashing his forehead into Uqba's nose.

Kujaku: "Oooh… there it is again! I love that headbutt!"

"Auuagghh!" The Champion felt his face crack, and blood streamed down from what could only be a broken nose. He staggered back from the impact, as did his weary attacker. But Gau recovered quicker and once more he charged in for a blitz assault. Quickly Uqba planted his feet and centered his weight for another thundering punch. "Kiai!"

Gau dove to one side at the last second and balled up. The blast carried him away, tumbling aside like an errant desert shrub. He stopped himself on all fours once me. Breathing heavy, ears crying out in agitation, body feeling like a mistreated doll, he risked a glance up to his opponent. Uqba fared no better. Bleeding badly from his nose, body shivering with exhaustion, he breathed just as hard. The spectators cried and beat on in favored exertion, but neither duelist was going to look away again. One more push…

Dolan: "Gau takes another burst from the Thunder Sleeves and now we wait to see the reaction. The Champ isn't moving yet either."

Kujaku: "I love when it gets like this. You can feel the tension, the drama, the burning desire to win."

Dolan: "For once punk, I agree with you."

Uqba made the first move. He charged on, forcing his weary legs to carry him over to Gau's animalistic stance. The Champion reared up, for another kicking assault as Gau dug his fingers into the mat, seeming ready to leap away. But he didn't jump. He spread his legs quickly and rose his hands, cupped near his stomach. As Uqba's kick unleashed forward, he caught sight of the eerie white glow in Gau's hands. 'No.' The wild boy's hands thrust forth and blast of fiery white light shot forth from his hands.

Kujaku: "AURABOLT!"

Awash in the sudden burst, it seemed to burn straight to his soul. Uqba's body racked in convulsion as the beam passed through him. His legs gave out, and he felt the impact of the mat on his knees. Everything went black as Champion tried desperately to draw a breath. A long moment passed as his lungs finally managed the feat, and by then his face felt cold surface against it.

Kujaku: "He… he did it! The Champion is down!"

"1-2-3"

Gau let his hands fall limp as he looked to Uqba. Fallen prone before the wild boy, Gau was just trying to get his own breath back as well.

"4-5-6"

The crowd sat awed, yet far from silenced. The shouted and cheered for the high level display. Their drums beat and feet stomped, shaking the Arena almost as much as Uqba's fists.

"7-8-9"

Alonso watched amazed. He still hadn't gotten the hang of the aurabolt, and Carina was still perfecting it. That one was almost as strong as one of Sabin's, and Gau had barely had a second to pull it off. "Woah…"

"10!" The gong sounded and the audience followed it with their decisive cheers. The match was over.

Kujaku: "Gau wins! Gau wins! We have a New Champion!"

Dolan: "Amazing! Absolutely Amazing. This kid is everything they said he was."

Kujaku: "Of Course he was you Old Fool! He had to be to Battle Kefka after all!"

A chorus of howls passed among the audience, in personal confirmation of Gau's win. The wild boy sat there, looking at Uqba's fallen form, watching his body rise with each heavy breath. Head cocked to one side, the green-haired boy was stupefied. It was just starting to sink in. He really won. A wide grin graced his bruised and bloody face, and he looked around at the cheering, howling, spectators. Though he was pained, and he could barely hear them over his ringing ears, he smiled. Victory felt pretty good. His gaze fell on his friends behind the glass. Alonso was beating the glass happily, jumping up and down howling ecstatically. Carina waved to Gau vigourously. Calling out and smiling so wide she had tears in her eyes. At least he figured that's why they were there. Sabin, he just sat still, regarding his student with a slight grin.

Doors opened around the ring as medics rushed in to tend them and Kujaku-Taishou was right on their heels to interview the Duelists. As the Doctor and her helpers swarmed around Uqba and a couple knelt beside Gau, checking over his injuries. Meanwhile, the feathered announcer gravitated over, holding forth his Microphone as he inquired, "Gau, you have just beaten the unbeatable Junior Chapmion. What do you have to say?"

As the medics checked his bruised arms and ribs for fractures, Gau cocked his head to question. He never was very good at words. Just looking around to the fans, howling and screaming his name, beating drums for him, this was a kind of pride he'd never felt. Letting out a short chuckle, it was all he could do.

"HHHHOOOOOWWWUUUUUUUOOOOOOO!"

The bestial howl echoed above the crowd, and hissed static through the speakers. The crowd quieted for an instant like scared pups cowing down to a fierce bull lion. Yet that last only a second. In reinvigorated response they crowd howled back in fanatical glee. This was his victory.

* * *

The ordeal was done. The pain was supposed to have passed. Yet he was still feeling it. Like a gnawing, anxious butterfly trying to eat its way through his stomach. It's never easy to try so hard, just to fail.

"If you're quite done hesitating, may we please get this over with."

King Edgar glanced up to the Chancellor, breathing deeply before he spoke. Cordially he grinned and offered, "Pardon me, I just have an interest in calligraphy and I was pondering how best to draw my name out." A few of the delegates slight chortles to his jest, while the rest scowled at him for wasting time. Deflating with a sigh, he leaned in and scratched the pen across the paper. In flourish of script he was done and he slid the paper forward to the notary. "There we go."

A collective sigh passed among the gathered with mixed emotions. Setzer spoke up in relief, "Finally this day is over."

Cyan was more morose, "Aye, this one, but longer ones wait ahead."

Chancellor Jerjerrod stood up, inspected the completed document with scrutinizing precision. Then turning to his peers he announced, "With this it is settled. One month from now the tournament will take place. The winner's country shall gain control of the Mobliz Peninsula."


	5. There's no shame

_I know, I really drug my feet getting this update out. I've just been kind of busy, and I wanted to set this chapter up the right way as we go into the next arch, which in my mind is where the real story begins. I'll try to be faster with the next chapter. Hope you all enjoy! _

_A note on healing: In the Final Fantasy setting there are instant healing potions and spells, but I wanted to make things a bit more realistic for this story. There are still Magic users trained with Healing Cure Spells, but they're rare. So while one may be present in a big Professional Arena, they aren't typically present at a Junior Competition. As for Potions, I look at it from a scientific approach. In the FFVI world, they can be explained as products created from Espers extracts, or at least that's my hypothesis. So, they would also be very rare in present days. However, healing in general is advanced by understanding of magic imbued plants and monsters, which can be tapped in place of Espers to provide a worthwhile, though much weaker base component. Hence, recovering from injury takes only a fraction of the time it would take in the real world. However, instantaneous healing can only be performed via magic or Pre-Ruin Potions._

* * *

**Duelist's Law**

**Chapter 4: There's no shame…**

**-Lunauc**

A light spring breeze rattled the porch wind chime, echoing the hollow beat of bamboo, while mountain birds sang their morning songs. The sunlight shone in through the eastern windows of the small house, beaming down through the open sliding door, right on the slowly waking boy within. His eyes blinked open lazily, trying to gradually adjust to the brightness. Even without moving, he could assess some of his ailments. Right eye swollen, he could only open it half way. His lower lip had a couple of stitches. Bandages wrapped his head, midsection and arms. Speaking of his forearms, they were throbbing sorely. No splints though, so they probably weren't broken. As he breathed in deeply though, his side ached. Perhaps he broke a rib. It wasn't exactly a nice collection of injuries to wake up to, not to mention the headache. Painful groans leaked from his lips, as he reached his arms back to push him self up. "Aiaiaiaiaiai…" Mumbling out little sounds of complained, he pushed up to sit as he his shoulders and abdomen presented their displeasure. Even this much was taxing after the beating he'd taken. Letting his head hang, he took a somber moment to steady his breathing, calm his body and try to get it to ignore some of the pain. Too bad he was never very good at meditation. A tray set on the floor beside his futon caught the corner of his vision. Chancing the neck pain, he craned his head up to glance. A simple breakfast of cranberry juice, eggs, rice and fish waited on the tray, along with a folded newspaper. "Oooooaaaaa…?" He leaned a bit closer to see the periodical. Strange that someone would leave him that, when he never bothered reading the news. His eyes shot wide at the image, well one did. On the front page was his picture. He was sat in the ring, howling happily as the medics backed away from him. Reading the headline, it finally began to sink in.

"_Hope of Figaro Falls to Prince of Veldt"_

"Heh..." The brief snicker passed as a grin spread his sore lips. Practically in disbelief Gau mused aloud, "Wow… I really did win." Gazing out the window, it was a pretty nice day out. Sunny, warm, as a matter of fact, it seemed to be nearing midday. He'd been asleep too long. "Guess I forgot to set the alarm." He noted insignificantly to himself. Outside some birds were casually roosting in the trees and around the old granite birdbath in the garden. They were going about their lives. Gau watched the birds thoughtfully for a while. They drank, they bathed, they fluttered about each other; it was the same as any other day.

* * *

"For Ifrit's sake… what the hell are you doing out of bed?" Sabin demanded to Gau.

"Sweeping." The injured youth explained simple, as he paused from his rather clumsy attempt to clean the porch with an old straw broom. He stared to his mentor with confusion, while barely being able to stand with out trembling.

Sabin barked back, "I can see that, dummy. But why are you up sweeping?"

Gau's eyes averted a moment in curious thought, before attempting vaguely, "Because… it's… Sunday…?"

Practically biting his tongue off to keep from yelling at the wounded youth in frustration, Sabin shook an errant fist to relieve some stress, before explaining harshly, "Idiot! The chores can wait! You took a bad beating last night. You should be resting. So cut it out!"

"Yes, Master." Gau offered a quickly bowed. "Ouwwk…" And he had forgotten about that rib. As he grabbed his side in pain, using the broom as a support, Sabin stood aside, grumbling under his breath about brainless kids. That's about when they showed up.

"What do you think you're doing!" An upset woman's voice called out from the walkway. Both men's eyes shifted to the visitor and found her not to be alone. She was an older woman, of perhaps sixty years. Graying brown hair and a wide maternal face, marked by worry lines and laugh lines together, which now scowled at Sabin. Standing strong and straight for her age, she wore a simple red blouse and brown skirt. As stern as she appeared though, it was her accompaniment which drew more of the fighters' attention. An equally older gentleman, he presented a bushy beard and fading brown hair falling past his just his shoulders, and wore a long brown robe over a green robe and pant set. Keeping his hands in his pockets and his mouth shut, he kept an eye aside to the angered woman, while addressing the men with a nod.

"Master Duncan…" Sabin turned to his now retired Instructor in the martial arts, and gave a respectful bow. Gau mimicked the humble gesture and once more…

"Oowwooo…"

Growling a second as his head was bowed, Sabin turned back to Gau to yell, "Would you stop doing that, ya Moron!"

"Sabin Rene Figaro!" Both younger men jumped a bit at the woman's hard tone. "How can you yell at an injured child like that?" The berated blonde tried his best to sputter out an explanation, but Mrs. Duncan pressed hard, "And why is he carrying a broom? Were you making him do chores in this condition?" Again he tried to speak, but she spoke over him, "I am absolutely appalled at this! How can you call yourself a Teacher, if you'd treat your students in such a horrible way?"

Desperately, Sabin tried to speak, "But I didn-nah ahaAH…" The fiery woman grabbed him by the ear, twisting the tender appendage just enough to make one of the strongest men in the world whine like a hurt little child.

"Don't you sass me, young man." She insisted venomously, "I may be an old gal, but I've put up with a rowdy husband and a delinquent son, and I'm not about to take your attitude." Shifting from ferocious to fretting, she continued, "People would say all the time how you push your students too hard, how you are a tormenting cretin, but I defended you. Even when the girls in my bridge club would make fun of your loudmouth, I stood up and told them about what a good boy you were. And how do you repay my faith in you? With this?" Releasing his ear, let the martial artist duck quickly, trying to rub his twisted ear in some consolation. Shaking her head, Mrs. Duncan walked by him, calling back over her shoulder, "You better straighten out right before next time I visit." Coming before Gau with a warm grin, she took his broom, tossing it aside. "Come along now. You need to sit down and relax. Aunty will bake you some cookies." Gau just gave a dumb grin and followed along, forgetting instantly about his scolded Master.

Sabin let out a few choice curses under his breath as the woman and boy disappeared back into the house. Duncan made sure they were out of sight before speaking to his former student, "Now you see why I use to take my students up into the mountains to train." The younger master glanced up to the sagacious man, "I love her dearly, but she can really be a nag sometimes."

"Tell me about it." Sabin spit out sarcastically as he continued to massage his ear. "So, Master Duncan, what brings you out here all of a sudden?"

The older man gave a meager shrug. Sauntering lackadaisically beside his protégé, Duncan offered offhand, "What's wrong with an old man visiting his student? You should be pleased with the visit."

Sabin gave a sigh, agreeing dryly, "Yes, it's always a pleasure when you come around, Master. However, you haven't visited in almost a year. So I can't help but feel you're here for a reason."

With a considering nod, Duncan granted, "Yes, of course I'm here because of Gau's fight." Sabin already figured that much. "When I heard that you were going to let him battle all of a sudden, I was curious what kind of sudden advancement he had made. Has the boy really gained enough control to satisfy you?"

AS the older man fixed him with peering eyes, Sabin gave a fading exhalation. His head shook unsurely as he explained, "I… don't know. Frankly, I wouldn't have allowed him in that fight if he hadn't been pleading for it so much. He did have a point. We'll never know if he's mastered his rage if he never tests him self." Duncan combed his fingers through his beard in consideration as his student spoke on, "That… instinct… of his is deep rooted, way back into his infancy. He isn't going to shake it too soon. For now…" He chewed his lip as he considered the right words. "I want to believe in him."

Duncan rubbed his beard as he strolled the long porch, patiently weighing his student's comment. The old man was stoic and silent as he circled round Sabin, taking him in carefully. The estranged prince remained silent as his Master thought, standing still while the older man sidled behind him. The sudden pat to his book surprised Sabin a bit and he turned round to see Duncan's grinning face. With a nod the old Master commented, "That sounds good to me. Come on let's go inside." Hanging an arm over the younger man's shoulders, Duncan headed inside with him, alluding not so subtly, "Perhaps you have some of those cinnamon rice cookies and green tea, I like so much."

Peering askew to him, Sabin warned briefly, "This isn't a hotel."

* * *

"So, you're awake already, huh?" The Baron drawled lazily as he strolled into the hospital room. The middle-aged martial artist was dressed up in a finely embroidered orange and gold silk robe over a high class green inner robe and gold hakama pants. Several gaudy rings decorated his thick fingers and a gold chain hung around his neck, while he carried a silver handle cane, though he surely didn't need the support. The cheapest thing on him was his thick black rimmed glasses, which he casually adjusted to better take in the condition of the young man before him.

"Yeah, I came to about an hour ago. Haven't talked to any doctors yet, but the nurse seemed pretty cheery." Uqba was laid up in a personal room at the hospital. His chest was heavily bandaged beneath his gown and his face was marred by deep purple bruises and a taped on brace and gauze over his nose. Yet, he was surprisingly up beat as he inquired in his nasal pinched voice, "So, what's my condition?" He even offered a smirk.

"Hmph, you got lucky… this time." Volga assured as he sidled up near the bed and found a seat in the nearby chair. "Two broken ribs, a minor concussion, badly broken nose, but the surgeon says he has hopes it will heal good as new, Also there was a bit of internal hemorrhaging, but they caught it quick. All in all, you should be back to fighting grade in about a week or so."

"Great." The dethroned Junior Champ grinned and chortled at the good news. "I can't wait to get back in training."

Volga arched a shaved brow to the optimism of the typically arrogant youth. "You're acting pretty strange all of a sudden." Uqba quirked his head aside curiously to his mentor, "Most fighters would get upset over a big loss like that. Here you are, all grin and giggles." Inspecting his student closer, he pondered, "Maybe the concussion was worse than they thought."

Uqba fixed him with an annoyed glared, stating firmly, "My head may hurt but its working fine." The Baron shrugged as the boy settled back into his pillows and turned his head to look out the windows. Wistfully he spoke, "It was a great fight. I went head to head with a legend, and I survived. Even pushed him back, I know I did." A fading grin passed his still healing mouth, and he mused further, "I lost. I can accept that from him. But more than that, it was a real challenge." His eyes focused of the Baron, and the young man explained, "For once I knew I could lose again. It took everything I had and it still wasn't enough. This is exactly what I wanted, a reason to reach to a new plateau."

The older man glanced back apprehensively, "You wanted to lose?"

The olive skinned youth gave a pestered groan. "No. I just wanted a fight that I could lose. Get it?"

"No." Volga shook his head, insisting, "If that's what you wanted, I could have just beaten you around back at the gym. Same effect and none of the bad press-"

"Cheh… Like I care about the press." Uqba scoffed and grumbled, "I'll make my debut soon, and then I'll prove myself as a real Duelist."

The Baron's cynicism faded gradually, and he grinned, pleased with his student's attitude. "Good. I'm happy to hear you haven't lost your momentum. As a matter of fact you seemed to have picked some up." Uqba nodded back assuringly. "And since you'll be bedridden and unable to train physically, we'll be working on your mediation and chakra control for the next week." He smiled while his student grimaced.

"Don't you have Arena affairs to attend to?" Uqba asked insinuatingly.

* * *

It was a leisurely afternoon. Sabin and Gau had sat around with the Duncan's just drinking tea while talking over recent events. As the conversation started turning toward the old Master's digestive problems, the wild boy was really wishing his body was in a shape to run off into the wilderness. But respectfully he sat and listened. "I swear, sometimes it smells like something died in that bathroom." The Mrs. insisted while Duncan shook his head woefully. The half-cringing expression on Sabin's face proved he didn't much want to hear this either.

Duncan sighed heavily, before retorting, "Well it can't be helped with that stew of yours."

The old woman batted an insulted eye to her husband. "What's wrong with my stew? You've been eating it for thirty years and now you have a problem?"

The old man nodded in confirmation, claiming, "Yes. Lately I have a problem."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, it's all that radish." Duncan gave a slight grimace, explaining, "It just doesn't sit well. It acts up on me."

She cocked her head back, pointing out accusatorially, "Oh please, you love radishes. You eat them all the time. But in my stew they give you diarrhea?"

It was a short moment before Duncan gave a brief nod. "Yup, that about sums it up." Mrs. Duncan opened her mouth wide, about to protest, loudly, when the doorbell (not an electronic one; an actually bell outside the door) rang.

"I'll get it!" Gau and Sabin declared simultaneously and both hopped up to go answer it. However, half way to standing, Gau gave a yelp of pain, grabbing his side. The old woman took him by the arm, coaxing him back down into his seat.

"Now, now, Sabin can get it. You should just relax and rest." She insisted. Meanwhile, Sabin was heading out into the hall, glancing back at his trapped student, who stared to him with pleading eyes. Gau really didn't want to be left in this conversation either. So with all of Sabin's maturity and concern… he stuck out his tongue to Gau and headed for the door. "Now explain to me how only the radish in my stew give you problems." Gau cringed as the seniors' conversation persisted, and he sat trapped.

"Hehe… sucks for him." Sabin grinned gladly as he strolled to the front door. Respecting one's mentor is a noble trait. Having to listen about his bowel movements is a completely separate issue. Even answering the door for some salesman or reporter, since most anyone who knew him just walked right in, was preferable to that torment. Grabbing the handle, Sabin slid the door open fast, as he demanded, "Yeah, whatta ya want?"

Pop! Honk! Crang! Pop! Vwip! Honk! Clank! The boom of horns, kazoos, crank noisemakers and the gathered greeting shouts of some twenty people knocked Sabin back in shock, along with the burst of little confetti poppers in the hands of some of the lead visitors. The martial artist stumbled back onto his romp. Glaring up at those in the doorway, with bits of colored paper still clinging to his head and shoulders, Sabin's eye twitched in annoyance at their happy, giggling manner. A gathering of friends and students waited at the doorstep with smiles, food, drinks, and annoying noisemakers. Alonso and Carina were at the head of the group, the former holding one of the spent confetti poppers, and the latter on crutches with a brace around her waist and thigh to support her injured hip.

After a brief pause to grumble at their chuckling, Sabin dryly insinuated, "I assume there's a good reason you've all come here to bug me." Behind him Gau and the Duncans had come round the corner to investigate.

Smiling at the friendly faces outside, the battered boy called graciously, "Hello everybody!"

"Gau!" Honk! Pop! "There's the man!" "Great fight, Big Bro!" Clang! Honk! "Congratulations!" As the shouts and clatter arose again, Sabin hung his head with a sigh.

* * *

The party carried the hours quickly, as several other well-wishers eventually found their way to the little mountain house. Students and a few of their parents, friends from town and even a few fighters from other schools packed the rooms, laughing, singing, feasting and in general having a good time. Even Sabin had stopped yelling at people for barging into his house after a couple bottles of sake. Sat at a table, he guffawed happily as he reminisced over old war stories with some veterans from town, while some of the kids gathered around to listen to them. For all his grumbling and aggravation, when the big guy relaxed, he really relaxed. Across the room, Gau gorged himself on various foods and desserts people had brought. Mouth stuffed with a concoction of sausage, pasta and pastries, and face smeared with a wider array of substances, he was a far cry from a respectable champion. It didn't stop others from calling him one though. "Way to go, Champ!" A friendly, and drunken, townsman stated as he clapped Gau on the back. The wild boy gagged as a wad of mixed food lodged in his throat. His face contorted as it clogged his wind pipe. Meanwhile the townsman, Mr. Harker from the post office, dropped in beside Gau, praising the boy happily, "IiiiIii… shaw dat fight. Ya were great, kid!" He slurred a bit in his drunkness and his breath reaked of sake. But Gau had bigger worried than bad breath. Unable to breath, he looked around for help. A few people gave him an odd looks, and he pointed to his throat desperately.

Carina, sat across from him, eyeing his behavior for only a moment, before it started to dawn on her, "Gau… are you… are you Chok-"

"Yeah, I know it was you!" Mr. Harker exclaimed loudly as he saw Gau pointing at himself frantically. "It was a great fight!" Suddenly he slapped Gau in the back again. The jarring was enough to knock the food loose, along with everything else in his throat. With a gag he spewed out every bit of chewed food in his mouth and throat onto the table top, earning a few disgusted "eeewwwws" and making a couple of people hop back from the table. Peering at this sickened boy, the drunken postman offered sagely, "Ya shoulden shove so much in yer mouth. Yer lible ta choke."

Once more the doorbell offered an exit from discomfort, this time for Alonso who hopped up from the table to answer it, volunteering, "I'll get that. You deal with… that." He gestured an underclassman toward the mess Gau'd made and rushed off to the front door. Sliding it open, he demanded crudely, "Yeah, whatta ya want?" It was just a rhetorical question, yet in a way he did get an answer as he saw who was outside, along with a small heart attack. Staring into the face of the King of Figaro, who stood still, arching a regal brow at the rude boy's harsh greeting, Alonso quickly straightened himself up. Bowing shakily to the monarch, the bald boy offered as humbly as he could manage, "P-p-please forgive me, your Majesty. I-I wa-was just kidding. Welcome to th-the party." He gulped hard as he awaited some reply, hoping for the best, or at least not the worst.

While Alonso kept his head down, Edgar spoke, sternly, "You speak with such disrespectful tone to your King, and you expect it to be wiped away with a simple apology!" The bald youth flinched at the sharp crescendo of the King's voice. Gripping the door knob tightly, Alonse fought the urge to turn and run, while Edgar ranted further, "Incompetence is no excuse for such disgrace. Why, I should have you locked away beneath the castle for twenty years for such insult!"

"Oh, please…" Setzer scoffed as he sidled up next to Edgar. "You've heard worse insults from barmaids that you hit on."

Edgar rose his jutting chin with definition as he drew in a deep breath. Then he just deflated casually, losing his regal stature in an instant as he agreed, "Yeah, you've got a point." Alonso dared try to lift his gaze from the floor as Setzer gave a light chortle. Edgar's hand suddenly on the boy's shoulder made his head rise faster. Still bent forward, he looked up to the affable expression of the King, who assured, "Don't worry, kid. You're forgiven. Now, where is my Brother at?"

Hastily standing erect, Alonso pointing back into the sitting room, "Th-that, your Majesty."

"Thank you, boy. You're very kind." He sauntered past, stopping a moment to jestingly throw back over his shoulder, "Not much of a doorman though." Then he continued on, while Setzer followed after him and Alonso, watching their important backs move away, almost closed the door on the soldier behind it. Lykopis gave him a sharp glare through the eyes of that wolfish helmet, causing the boy to gulp once more, before the soldier followed off after Edgar.

The revelers parted a path for the high-class trio, many staring in surprise of the King's presence, and some even stopping to humbly greet him. Many even turned awed glances to Setzer Gabbiani. Lykopis offered only scowls to the assorted carefree partiers. Heading to the jammed room in the middle of the hall, Sabin was sat at the head of his table, flailing a bottle of sake in hand as he described some battle with a behemoth. "… and I got the big bastard around the neck and squeezed town tight with these big pythons of mine." He flexed his impressive bicep for show, gaining a few scattered "oo's" and "ahh's", before continuing, "Then I rear back, bend him backwards and flip the overgrown monitor onto his stinkin'back; Behemoth downed by Suplex!" He exclaimed happily and the listeners gave a cheer and clinked glassed and bottles together.

Then Edgar spoke up to offer, "Yeah, I remember that. Didn't we have to pry you out from under its carcass?" Everyone at the table looked up to the Monarch, and were, for the most part, amazed.

Sabin was more surly, "It was really heavy."

"It must have been." Edgar agreed and went on, "Just by the way you were screaming for help; whining like a little girl…" Mockingly he mimicked, "Help! It's dark! It's Smell! Get me out!"

"Shuddap!" Sabin cried, while his audience snickered and giggled at his expense.

"Yes, yes, that will be all." Edgar assured, "After all, I didn't come here to mock you. I came to praise Gau. Where is the boy?" Quickly Edgar looked about, calling out, "Gau? Gau? Where are you at?"

"OOoooaaaa?" Rolling back from the table to lie on his back, looking up to the new visitors, Gau's bruised and weary face shifted into a glad smile. "Edgar! Setzer! Hello!"

"Gau!" Edgar moved to stand over him, pondering aloud, "Or should I say Junior Champion Gau?"

The wild boy took a second to think the rhetorical question over before answering, "No. Too many words."

Edgar grinned at the simplicity, assuring, "Then I'll leave it at Gau."

Meanwhile Setzer Kneeled down beside him, offering gladly, "One of my scouts told me all about the fight. He was impressed, and vicariously, so am I. You should be very proud of yourself. Uqba was one hell of a challenger."

With a nod, Gau agreed, "Yeah, he's strong."

"That's right." Edgar affirmed, and advised, "And last night, you proved yourself to be even stronger. I hope you're ready to face the reputation which comes along with that. People expect a lot from a Champion.."

"Ooooouuuooo?" Gau cocked his head aside, correcting simply, "But I'm not going to be a Champion."

"What?" The King looked back at him in confusion.

"Didn't you even read the article?" Setzer asked as he looked up with a smug smile.

With a meager shrug, Edgar half-admitted, "I… skimmed it."

The gambler shook his head and sighed, admonishing lightly, "Sometimes I wonder how you run a country." Edgar glared daggers at him, and Setzer went on to casually explain, "It was decided after the fight that Gau wouldn't get the actual title, since he was never a registered member of the FDL (Figaro Duelist League). His admittance into the tournament was just a big publicity stunt, and since it happened so quick, they didn't even consider what would happen if he actually won."

"That's terrible." Edgar commented sorrowfully.

Setzer shrugged, adding, "It can't be helped. From what I hear a lot of managers and young fighters are pretty pissed that he was allowed in to begin with. Now there's no Champion and there's gonna be a free for all. Fortunately though, since Uqba was planning to give up the title anyway, they were already prepared for the eventuality. But still it throws a lot of people off."

"S'okay." Gau assured from his position looking up from the floor. "I didn't really want to be the Junior Champion anyway. I just wanted to fight Uqba. I need stronger opponents." Edgar nodded along in consideration. Indeed Uqba himself had already been beyond the level of a Junior Champion, and Gau was beyond even him. There would be no point in having another unbeatable champion blocking the way of others. However…

A barrage of food splattered across Gau, tossed by other fighters around the table, yelling their views: "Who says we can't beat you?" "As if you're the strongest around! "One day and you're already talking like Uqba!" "What a jerk!"

"Not what I meant! Not what I meant!" Gau exclaimed as he held up his bandaged arms to block his face from the messy missiles.

* * *

"One month, huh?" Sabin pondered aloud. It had been little over an hour since Edgar had arrived, and now the brothers found themselves sitting out on the porch, Lykopis standing behind them. Within the house questionable singing and laughter permeated, while the Princes had a drink and conversed on unappealing matters.

With a heavy exhalation, Edgar took his time before replying, "Yes. The tournament will be held next month. Terms have already been set." Sabin drew a sip of sake as his brother explained, "Five nations, three duelists per team, one alternate allowed; each team battles each other team. The nation with the most victories takes the prize; Mobliz." The king chewed his lips a moment as he turned a thoughtful eye to his Brother. "Now, Lykopis will take one spot, and I'm thinking of tapping Umaro for the second seat. There's a also a young mage in our army I was thinking of, but I'd rather keep him as the alternate. So… I have a spot open… if you're willing."

Sabin was silent for the moment. Crossing his thick arms, he looked out into the darkened woods with pensive intensity. Beside him Edgar waited impatiently for his steely brother's reply. Finally Sabin turned back and offered with the utmost sincerity, "Setzer already offered my booze and women. Sorry." Edgar's jaw dropped. "HA HA!" Sabin lashed out with a meager punch to the monarch's shoulder, retracting playfully, "I'm kidding. I'm kidding. Sure I'll fight."

Edgar gave a relieved groan, while Lykopis glared down on the drunken and joking Master Duelist. "That's great." Edgar breathed out contently. "We'll be counting on you one more time. Don't screw it up."

With an errant shrug, Sabin retorted plainly, "Hey, you get what you get. Buyer beware, and all that…"

* * *

The party carried on through the night, loud and obnoxious. The food ran out near midnight, when most of the people cleared out. Some more dedicated others decided to stay until the booze ran dry as well. The students and younger fighters had already left, including Carina who offered to take Alonso home after the boy had almost gotten his arm dislocated. He reallt shouldn't have listened to his Master's drunken dare to try and take off Lykopis' helmet. Setzer had started a poker game, winning the savings of quite a few townspeople, until Sabin smacked him in the back of the head and made him give it all back. The royal brothers spent most of the night drinking and bragging. Save for a prolonged intermission where they decided to dress up in robes and paper hats to get up and take their turn at singing and dancing for everyone. It wasn't very good, but it was definitely hilarious. All in all it was a great celebration, until the morning when the residents of the house woke to a horrible mess and a gaggle of drunks passed out on the floors.

Gau gave long yawn as he came to. Taking stock of the mess he'd have to clean, he was not looking forward to the day. But on the bright side, his ribs were starting to feel better, and his eye wasn't swollen anymore. At least his medication was working. Still a bit sore he pushed up to a stance and looked about the room. 'First thing first; breakfast.'

One of his favorite changes since moving from the Veldt had been the advent of cooked food. Running with monsters as a child, all he'd generally live off of was raw meat and eggs, and foraged fruits and nuts. Save for the infrequent bit of stolen food from hunters and travelers, for the most part he hardly ever at anything cooked until he joined the Returners. In all truth, it really did taste better. Ever since he'd been learning to cook, just to feed his own enormous appetite. But occasions like this called for a bit more. Many of the passed out began to come to for the scent of fried steak, mushrooms and eggs, and fresh coffee boiling in two large pots. As people began to gravitate into the kitchen, the green-haired boy served them with a smile, before pointing them out onto the porch for a clean spot to eat. While he cooked, Gau picked what he wanted right from the skillet while enjoying a tall glass of juice. From behind him, Sabin finally strolled him, bags under his eyes and tired scowl on his face, as he moved to the stove to get his meal.

Gau served him up a plate of steak and eggs and the teacher demanded, "Coffee."

"All out." He stated plainly.

Sabin quirked an annoyed brow, requesting grumpily, "Well, make more."

"Can't. All out."

Grimly, the haggard teacher stared at his happy-go-lucky student as the boy continued to fry eggs for their guests. As the truth of the matter became clear Sabin purposefully inquired, "You gave them all of my coffee?"

"Yup."

The vein over Sabin's eye began to twitch as he just stared at the boy in quiet frustration. "And you didn't save any for me?" Gau's head cocked to one side at the question.

Glancing askew to his Master, he asked dumbly, "Did you want some too?"

The vein was about ready to pop, as Sabin succinctly stated, "Yes."

"Aaoooooo…" Gau nodded in understanding, pointing out thoughtfully, "You should have gotten up sooner. It went fast." He returned to his cooking, while behind him, Sabin's hands raised shakily, half ready to throttle the boy.

"Aaahhh.. delicious." Setzer commented graciously as he strolled in from the porch. He was as collected and dashing as always, and carried an empty plate and a steaming mug in hand. "Not just an exceptional fighter but a brilliant chef as well, Gau, I salute you."

"Thank you." The wild boy happily accepted, while the gambler placed his dish in the sink.

Taking another sip from his mug, he added gladly, "Mmm.. great coffee too." Sabin growled and glared at the flamboyant figure, who only raised a brow back in concern, offering, "You don't look so well."

"Shuddap!" Setzer gave a flinch at the harshness, but shrugged it off as Sabin grumbled under his breath and went to pour himself some juice.

Setzer finished off his coffee and placed the mug in the sink. After straightening his cuffs and dusting off his coat, he declared, "It's been a wonderful visit, but it really is time I should be going. My crew was expecting me back last night and I do have affairs to deal with back home." He offered the fighters a genuine grin, assuring, "I'll try to make the time to see you both again soon. Thanks again for Breakfast."

"Goodbye, Setzer. Travel safe." Gau offered with a toothy smirk.

Sabin however insisted, "Hold on, I want to talk to you about something first." Setzer gave the fighter a puzzled look, as he grabbed up his plate and glass and hooked the gambler's arm, dragging him into the next room. He tried to put up some protest, but Sabin clarified, "You stole my coffee, the least you can do is listen to me for two damn minutes." That only confused Setzer more.

Gau ignored the odd behavior and just went back to cooking. He served a few more people before finishing up and turned to start cleaning the pile of dishes in the sink. As he was immersed in scrubbing in came Edgar and Lykopis. The King carried the dirty dishes, while the soldier harped, "Your Majesty, we really must be going. You have an appointment this afternoon with city engineers and the last report from delivery pigeon stated pressing matters for you to deal with."

"I know. We're going. Relax." Edgar exasperatedly appeased his underling. Moving to the sink, he put down the dish for Gau, smiling to the diligent young man. "Well, Gau, we have to be going. Royal matters and all, you understand?" the wild boy gave a brief nod and an affirming grunt. Patting the boy on the back, the King addressed kindly, "I hope you get well soon, and good luck on the next fight you pick."

"Thanks, Edgar. Good luck to you too."

"Believe me… I'll need it." Edgar assured with a deep sigh. Then turning to his soldier, he assented, "Lets get the carriage ready. The Castle awaits."

"Yes, sir." Lykopis crisply replied and went ahead for the door. Edgar gave Gau one last pat on the shoulder and a grin, Then he was off.

Gau was just about done with the dishes, and most everyone was done eating, several minutes later, when Sabin called from the foyer, "Hey, Gau, get out here." Hastily scrubbing off the last couple of dishes first, he was called again, "Gau!" He rinsed them quick and pulled the plug to drain the sink before heading out to meet with Sabin, who waited in the foyer with a couple of duffle bags at his feet. "What took you so long?"

"Sorry. Wanted to finish the dishes." He apologized as he looked curiously to the bags.

"Whatever." Sabin moved on to explain. "I need you to go with Setzer to the airfield. He's taking some things to Jidoor for me. Alright?"

Gau cocked his head curiously to his Master's request. It seemed strange he'd be sending anything to Jidoor. Besides, why would he need Gau to go along? The young man was still rather sore and weakened from his recent fight and didn't particularly feel like lugging anything around. But, orders are orders. With a brief bow, Gau relented, "Yes, Master."

* * *

A twenty minute carriage ride later, they arrived at the airfield at the base of the mountain. A small supply ship loading up for delivery and Setzer's extravagant _Falcon_ were the only vessels present. The moment the carriage stopped, Setzer's aids rushed down the gangplank to meet them. A middle aged man in fine gold rimmed glasses and elegant green embroidered, white satin ensemble spoke purposefully to the gray-haired gambler, "Sir, we've been waiting to lift off since last night. The field attendant is getting rather aggravated with us. Also must leave right away if we're to reach Jidoor in time for the meeting with the President before he begins his travel to Maranda."

"Yes, of course. We'll leave immediately." Setzer assured as he hopped from the vehicle and began toward the plank. Meanwhile, Gau reached up to grab the duffle bags from the back of the carriage, but a crewman grabbed them first and headed up the plank. Unsure what to do, he followed the man up onto the deck. The man stopped to meet with Setzer, who gestured to the door below deck, stating, "Put them in the first guest room." The crewman gave a nod and headed off below deck.

Gau watched the man go, while strolling up to Setzer. With a shrug the wild boy offered errantly, "Uuuuuhhh… I… guess that's it." Holding out his hand to shake, Gau offered sincerely, "Have a safe trip." Setzer grinned and reached out for the boy's hand, putting a folded piece of paper in his palm.

With a wink, Setzer replied, "Hopefully we both will." Then he was off to talk with his crew, leaving Gau staring at a piece of paper with his name on it, written in Sabin's sloppy handwriting. Curiously he unfolded the paper to read

_Gau,_

_For the last four years I've told you all that I could. I admit, you've really impressed me with your determination. You may just have what it takes to make your way in the world. But you still have a lot to learn and a lot to experience. Unfortunately, you'll never have those experiences stuck in a little gym in the mountains. So, I've made this decision. From today on you may begin your journey as a Duelist._

_I've already talked it over with Setzer He has promised to bring you to enter one of the Jidoor Leagues to compete. You will start off at the rookie levels and if you can prove yourself, you'll raise up to the bigger fights in time. Don't rush into anything you can't handle. Take your time and pick your battles wisely. And remember, you have nothing to prove to anyone, except yourself._

_If you choose not to go, I'll leave that up to you. This is your Decision_

_Sabin_

"So, Gau…" Setzer's voice called Gau's attention up from staring at the paper in disbelief. "Are we ready to go?"


	6. in following

_Yes… I know it has taken me a ridiculously long time to update this fic. But considering my track record, this little hiatus has been the equivalent of a weekend lapse when compared to a more regular writer. So, I'm sorry this chapter is "a few days" late. This is kind of a short filler chappie anyway. I'm going to start righting the next part this weekend. Hopefully it will be up by Sunday. Or maybe it will be in a "few more days". Keep your fingers crossed._

Br

**Deulist's Law**

**Chapter 6: … in following…**

**-Lunauc**

"I do hope you won't mind staying here for a while." Setzer offered cordially to the boy as they waited for the gangway to join the deck. "At least until you are healed and we can find you a more … suitable lodging..." The crew rustled about, as they anchored down the ship and prepared to disembark. The bandaged boy beside the gambler though, was oddly quiet. Peering aside to him, the elder man verbally prodded, "Gau…?" No answer. "Gau…?" Still no answer... "Gau!" A strange little bestial yelp arose from the boy as his head spun aside toward Setzer. Drawing a steady breath to ease back from the slight shout he'd been forced to utter, the regal gentleman inquired, "Do you think you'll be comfortable?"

"Uh…" The boy's head tilted aside as he glanced again to the aforementioned abode. Meagerly he agreed, "I-it'll be okay. It's just… big." His simple words hardly relayed his awe at the immense estate sprawled out before him. Setzer's Jidoor home was a palatial red brick mansion trimmed in white marble and decorated by numerous statuaries along the palisades, columns and aesthetically placed about the expansive garden. His backyard, which maintained his private airship docks were at least four acres of intricate stone walkways, latticed over lush green lawn. Still figures of stone and shrubbery found their places of exhibition and sprawling bushes of azaleas and roses lined the rear patio. If you can refer to a fourteen hundred square foot area of elaborated brick work adorned with fine brass and glass bistro sets and boasting a grand central fountain a patio. The fact that a place like this could be constructed so soon after the disastrous era of Kefka's rule stood testament to the power of money. With enough of it, few desires are unattainable.

"Yes." Setzer spoke in near bored impulse, "I like to have a bit of room to stretch out." Gau crooked the elder man a curious brow, gaining a slight grin from Setzer, who expanded, "Besides, being a politically ingrained socialite, as I am, I often have to entertain guests. I find that people are much more susceptible to influence when in the presence of a regal and imposing figure. After all, one who can manage all of this is more likely to responsibly handle their affairs. The estate is somewhat of an extension of that guise. You understand?"

Shifting his head a bit and screwing up his expression, Gau admitted, "So… it's to help you lie?"

"What?" The gentleman's calm face shifted a bit in indignation.

"Sabin said all you do is lie for a living. So, this place helps you lie to people somehow?" Gau offered matter-of-factly.

Shaking his head the gray haired gentleman assured, "Sabin has no idea what he's talking about. I don't lie. I simply present the best personal image of myself for the benefit of others."

Staring back dumbly, Gau's best reply was, "Uuuooooouuhhhh?"

With a slightly annoyed groan, Setzer dismissed the matter, "It's no concern. For now let us simply focus on getting you settled in. Now come along." As Setzer cut a path across the gangway to the landing platform servants moved aside, ceasing their work a moment to move from his way and offer generous bows. Less surely Gau followed after the gambler. He eyed the porters in passing, curious of their subservience. Yet, he didn't bother to ask about it, figuring the gesture was one more bit of etiquette that he didn't understand. A bit out of place but sure of his former comrade's good intentions, Gau followed Setzer down the stairs of the platform to meet a waiting chocobo drawn chariot. The gambler stepped up into the conveyance, taking the reins and offering a brief thanks for the man who had held them ready. Glancing back to the socially clumsy lad, Setzer cited plainly, "Come, come, no point in walking all that distance." Gau took a moment to contemplate the contraption before boarding. He had ridden in carriages, ridden on the backs of various beasts, flown the skies on airships and flying creatures and even been whisked away by strange magicks. This would be his first chariot though. Stepping up into it, he noted how it rocked a bit from his weight shifting on the single axel, but it seemed in all sturdy enough. "Good, let's go then. Brace yourself." Setzer gave a finally warning before spurring the two big birds leading the vehicle with a snap of the leather.

"Ooouuuhh?" The questioning little grunt barely escaped Gau's mouth before the birds dashed forth with a squawk. The sudden jerk almost sent him toppling backwards out of the coop and onto the stone. A lucky hand managed to catch a side bar, saving himself from worse injury.

While Gau recovered from a near heart-attack behind him, the unaware driver spoke on about the boy's situation as they rode, "You will be staying with us for perhaps a week. In that time, feel free to use the facilities of my home as you please. The maids will offer whatever service you require, and the house chef will prepare any dish you ask for." The youth recovered quickly from his disturbance at the mention of food, but Setzer turned a shrewd eye back to admonish, "Just don't go getting fat and lazy before your debut. That brings up the exercise hall which you are free to use once you're feeling strong enough." The chariot drew to a stop as they came around the fountain to the rear steps up to the house. Setzer hopped down handing off the reins to a server who offered a humble bow in passing. Setzer gave the man a quick pat on the shoulder and headed up toward the house, Gau following in his wake. "The town of Jidoor is barely two miles up the road. If you get the urge to do a bit of sightseeing, just let someone know and they'll give you a ride into town." Coming to the top of the steps, Setzer stopped and turned back, making a point to ask, "Do you have any questions?"

Gau halted before him, peering down to the pattern placed gray and yellow bricks beneath him as he thought it over. After a moment, the one inquiry he gave with determination was, "When's my first fight?"

Setzer gave a slight chortle to the boy's enthusiasm, which promptly faded, as Setzer explained, "It won't be for a while yet. We have to get you registered in the Jidoor League. Then we need to find you an opponent. And before any of that, you need to completely recover from your injuries." Turning to the open glass doorway, held by a bowing butler, Setzer stated as he walked, "Let's focus on one step at a time, my boy." As he strutted into the house, Gau once more followed after him, stopping a second to offer a greeting nod to the man holding the door. Inside they entered a back foyer, an open area with a décor of dark cherry wood paneling and hung red velvet draperies. High vaulted halls led off east and west and twin curving stairways framed a passage to the front foyer.

A slightly older maid of perhaps nearing her fourth decade, with fading blonde hair and a kind round face stood beside the stairs awaiting the entrance of the two men. Offering a bow on their arrival, she addressed them, "Welcome home Lord Setzer."

"Good day, Elsa." He returned happily with a bow of his head. "Anything to report?"

"No, my Lord. Things have been rather quiet while you were away." Elsa then turned a delighted eye to Gau, noting, "And you must be the young Champion the porters were talking about. Gau… is it?"

"Yes." The boy assured with a nod, but added, "I'm not really a champion though."

She gave a small chuckle at his sincerity, replying, "Well all the same, you seemto be a decent young fellow. I'm sure we'll enjoy your stay." Leaning down to his stooped posture a bit she added not so secretly, "And I'm sure the young maids will quite enjoy having such a handsome _young_ man around for a change."

"OOooouuhh?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Setzer retorted in mock indignation.

Elsa gave a slight giggle and stepped back to deliver, "Dinner will be ready in about half of an hour. The bath is ready if you wish to relax a bit before then."

"That sounds splendid." Setzer admitted.

Gau was a bit less positive about it, citing, "No thanks, I just had a bath the other day."

Setzer shot him down a pointed glance, suggesting, "You need another one. Believe me." A hurt look crossed the boy's face, for just a second, while Setzer turned to the maid, advising, "Make sure he gets cleaned properly for a change."

"Of course, My Lord." Elsa agreed with a nod then raised her hands to give a loud clap, calling out, "Nigel, Dear…" Gau's head cocked in curiosity of the act, wondering who Nigel could be. His answer came in the form of heavy footfalls approaching behind him. Feeling their vibrations through the floor, Gau was almost convinced a behemoth was trying to sneak up on him. As a large shadow overtook him, the boy finally made his head turn back to see what it was. His eyes and mouth gaped at the sight behind him. This giant of a man in a white formal shirt and matching black slacks and vest stood well over seven feet tall. His massive ebony-skinned body was heaped with enough muscle to scare a rhinox, and his big bald head displayed several disfiguring scars, suggesting he was no stranger to violent conflagration. One particularly nasty scar ravaged his right brow, forcing his eye to squint, while the left eye held a proper monocle. All in all he was an interesting mix of gentleman and goon. It sure intimidated Gau. Gladly though, Elsa spoke, "This is my husband, Nigel. He'll make sure that you're seen to properly."

"Oowaah?" He had no chance to argue as the giant suddenly grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, lifting the boy from the ground as easily as a handbag. Gau struggled to get free, but found the thick fingers of the large man held the garment tight, keeping Gau from slipping out of the shirt. That option gone, he settled for a more direct approach. With a swift twist and thrust he kicked back for Nigel's gut. It barely reached the distance, and when it did, met with a solid abdomen. Seeing the lack of effect Gau's face faulted. He chanced a look up to Nigel's stony façade and let slip a nervous little chortle at his own stupidity. The giant did not seem very amused.

In a deep, firm voice Nigel spoke, "Come along to the bath, Young Sir." His nose wrinkled a bit as he tested the air around the boy, before reiterating, "You do need it." Doubly insulted, Gau went limp, sulking a bit, as he was carried off down the hall by the ominous butler. Hung by the scruff of his neck, he was treated like a disobedient pup and gave a suitable little whine to match.

Br

"Aaahh.. aahAaaA!" Gau complained incomprehensively as the overpowering manservant stripped the boy's clothes and forced him to a seat on a stool by the bath. "I-I can bathe myself! Really!" The green-haired youth insisted as he futily tried to struggle free. A thick hand grabbed him by the scalp, like it was palming a play ball, and forced him down, just before a wood basin of water was empty over his head. Gau gave a shriek at the sudden immersion, and instinctively tried to shake the excess water from his body. However, an imposing hand pushing down on his spine kept him from moving much. "Ow.. ow.. ow.. I promise I'll clean. Please."

Holding the boy pinned to the seat with one hand and hoisting the basin once more filled from the bath over the boy, Nigel explained sternly, "I was instructed to be sure you were properly cleaned." Another few gallons were dumped over the boy.

After coughing out some water he'd accidentally breathed in during the soaking, Gau pleadingly assured, "I promise I'll get clean. I promise." A heavy sigh resounded from the giant man, and after a moment his heavy hand began to release its pressure. Instinctively shaking free from the last bit of force, Gau looked back cautiously over his shoulder to Nigel. The man stood up straight, peering down his nose at the drenched youth.

Sleeves rolled up and wet hands clenching menacingly, Nigel spoke, "Alright then. I'll trust you to clean yourself. Just don't make me regret it."

Gau grimaced at the treatment, grumbling indignantly, "I'm not a dog. I bathe … often." The butler crooked his non-scarred brow probingly, and Gau peudo-confessed, "Well… kind of often." The big man shook his head as Gau went about grabbing up a bar of soap and wash cloth. As he lathered up, he pondered silently, 'Setzer sure has some strange bathing rules in this place.'

Br

In the other end of the mansion, Setzer sat in his private bath; an expansive room of mosaic tiles and oil lamps, dominated by a fifteen square foot bath. Lounging in the steaming water with a cup of warm sake in hand, the Master of the house let his body relax away the rigors of the day.

"Would you like a refill, Master Setzer?" Setzer winked on eye open to glance at the speaker, a lovely girl barely into her twenties smiled back, as she held out the ceramic bottle; her hair tied back and her nude body submerged in the water.

"Yes, my dear. That would be wonderful." He settled back as she refilled his cup.

"Shall I wash your back, Master?" Another cheery voice asked from behind him.

"No, it's my turn to wash the Master's back." A voice from behind his other shoulder bickered. Craning his head back, the relaxed diplomat gazed up at two twin girls with matching tied-back blonde hair, fair young skin and damp white towels barely covering their bodies, as they tugged at either corner of a wash cloth between them.

Setzer gave an amused little chortle at their cute scene. Ever the mediator, he offered gladly, "Now, ladies, sisters should never fight." They both looked to their Master sorrowfully and hung their heads, ready to apologize. Then the sly gambler added thoughtfully, "My back is quite big, you can both wash it." He gave the girls a proud grin, and as if infected by his spirit, they smiled back.

"Thank you, Master." They chorused in unison, before leaning into rub their cleansing cloths along his back.

Setzer gave contented sigh, at his pampering, enjoying another sip of his sake as he wound down.

"Are you comfortable, Master Setzer?" His sake server asked sincerely.

With a smile and a nod, he assured, "Of course I am, Hiromi. Like I've always believed, proper bathing is an essential to a happy life."

Br

Gau shifted uncomfortably in his new clothes, trying in futility to work the stiffness out of the bleached white shirt he'd been given. It was just light cotton but he really wasn't use to ironed pleats. Not to mention the green silk breeches, white knee high socks and buckled black shoes, though slightly oversized, were a bit more confining than anything he was use to wearing on his lower half. Groaning temperamentally, he inquired disdainfully, "Why I gotta dress like this?"

Walking beside him on their way to the dining room, Nigel coldly corrected the boy, "Why _must I _dress like this?"

The wild boy stopped a second to peer up to the large man curiously, before replying, "I figured Setzer made you dress like that too. He likes dressing people up funny."

The menacing butler scowled down to the boy, stating firmly, "Actually my wife made these clothes for me." Turning to walk on, as a subtle gesture for the boy to keep moving, he added, "Besides, I was not asking you a question. I was correcting your grammar."

"Grammer?" He furrowed his brow in thought as he followed along. A few more steps and he chanced, "That's talking, right?"

Nigel cast a glance back to assure the boy's honest naivety. Surely, educated was not a word he would afford the youth. So, he simply assented, "Yes, Gau, grammar is the accepted rules of speech and literature."

The boy nodded along in what appeared to be understanding, though Nigel wondered. Honestly, Gau spoke, "Yeah, I'm not too good at that stuff. But I have gotten a lot better! Really!" He smiled with self-esteem as he skipped a few steps ahead of the larger man.

Recalling what he'd heard of the wild child from Setzer's tales, Nigel agreed, "True, from what I've heard from the Master, you could barely string two words together years back."

Gau turned back, frowning a bit as he explained, "I could to. I just didn't know there was a difference between monster talk and people talk."

As they followed the hall Nigel eyed the boy beside him. Taking a moment before questioning, "Monsters talk?"

"Sure." Gau stated definitely with a big nod. Then semi-sagaciously he explained, "I mean, they don't use words and sentences and … grammer and stuff. Well, some do, but most don't." His head cocked aside as he searched the right words to use. "Every animal's different. Some just squawk or howl or shriek in different ways. Others also move their bodies in certain ways; like waving their tails or pulling back their ears. It's not real talking, but…." His sentence ran off for a second, before he gave another big nod and assured, "If you really watch and listen you can get it."

"Fascinating." Nigel stated with pensive interest. Thinking it over though, he wondered aloud to the boy, "I wonder though how you could mistake human speech with yelps and yowls of animals."

Gau gave a meager shrug, offering from the top of his head, "S'not much different. Animals howl in different ways to say what they mean. So I just figured words was like lots of really complicated howling. Plus lots a' people talk with their hands and make faces." He gestured about in exaggerated display and puffed out his face in silly expressions to exercise the point. The burly butler quirked a slight grin at the young man's theatrics, and his impressive observation. "So… I just kinda copied some of that stuff to talk with people."

"Hmph…" With a bit of consideration, the large man commented, "Actually, that's rather clever. When you think about it, I guess there isn't much difference. For you to be able to communicate through expression and mimicry though, that takes quite a bit of comprehension and intuition. I'm impressed." He offered the boy a genuine grin, and Gau smiled back proudly. 'Outward appearances aside maybe he's not a complete idiot.' Nigel led the young guest a little ways further up the hall before stopping him at one door, declaring, "Young Sir, the dining hall…" A turn of the knobs and Nigel pushed open the large double doors, opening into a great hall. And at that moment the sound of chamber music permeated out into the hall, as if it had just started playing the moment the doors had opened. Ninety feet long and forty feet wide, with a thirty foot vaulted ceiling, the room, decorated in lush purple and red velvet draperies and exquisite wood paneling, displayed fine works of art about its walls and little statuaries and antique vases. An immense long table took up the eastern end of the room, prepared to seat some fifty people with ease. Off to the other end, was an open dance area with a stage to one corner, which now showcased a modest quartet of formally dressed young women playing a tender waltz on two violins, a cello, and a harpsichord.

"Woooooooooooooww…" Gau breathed out in amazement at the set up. Before entering, he turned to the big butler to inquire curiously, "Is there going to be a party?"

Nigel gave a meager chortle at the question, answering casually, "No, Lord Setzer simply believes every meal should be held in absolute comfort and contentment." Gau's head tilted aside in pondering, before Nigel added, "Supposedly President Owzer will be coming for desert though. He was too busy to make it to dinner."

"The whale carcass is coming?"

"Th-the what?" Nigel stuttered back in a bit of disbelieve of the boy's insult.

"Whale carcass; that's what Master Sabin calls him. He says if it looks like a whale carcass, and it smells like a whale carcass, it must be a…"

"Making fun of our President may be an acceptable pastime in your country." Nigel cut him off abruptly, "But while you're in our country, I wouldn't go around saying those things, especially to his face." Ushering the boy into the hall, the taller man added under his breath, "No matter how many people agree with you." Gau glanced up suddenly to the scarred man, who only bothered to return a meager shrug.

"Oh, don't you look handsome?" Elsa's sugared voice rhetorically asked as she strolled from the table to meet them. Offering a smile up to her husband, she complimented, "You did a wonderful job with him, Dear. He was all knotty hair and ratty clothes before and now just look at you." Indeed, Gau seemed like a completely different person with his greenish hair brushed down to make a respectable part to her right standing upright after Nigel's gratuitous "corrections". "My you do clean up nicely. Doesn't he, girls?" She turned back to ask to three young maids who had been busy setting the table.

"Yes, Ma'am, he's a real Cutey." An assertive blonde quickly replied with a wink to their slightly bruised but well dressed guest.

Across from her, a slightly shorter brunette shifted the flowers a bit, before agreeing with small grin, "Very handsome." The rural fighter blushed a bit pink at their compliments, scratching his head and averting his eyes to the floor in embarrassment. Attention and praise were things he was definitely still getting used to. His sights only lifted from a nondescript spot on the marble tiles when Elsa stepped up to him, tugging at his shirt to get it settled at his shoulders.

"Hmmm… even Jack's old clothes are a little big on you. Perhaps I'll take them in for you later." Elsa offered in a motherly tone.

But Gau wondered aloud, "Who's Jack?"

"Jack is our oldest child." She stated proudly, and expanded, "He's nineteen, and currently studying abroad. That boy is very smart, but he's inherited his father's bulk. These clothes are from back when he was fourteen and they're still big to you."

From her happy face, Gau turned his eyes up to the giant Nigel, glancing over the man's enormous physique, before inquiring back to his wife, "Jack's that big?"

She gave a slight giggle before answering, "No, no, not quite as big as his Father. But he is one strong built young man." She added pointedly, "And smart too. He's studying in Figaro to be a doctor, under Banon himself no less." Truly only top medical students were candidates to study at Banon's clinic in North Figaro. Content in their fortune, the older woman clasped her hands together, beaming with maternal pride, "Yes, that boy of ours is going to be a great man." Even Gau knew the validity of that statement. After all, not only did he know the clinic, he knew the man. Banon's hospital had become known as one of the greater bastions of healing in this recovering world. Only the white mages of Thamasa could compare, but there were hardly enough mages to go around. The doctors trained under Banon on the other hand were some of the most highly skilled in the world. Much like Sabin's training methods only the top students would graduate.

"Uoooowwwooooww… He _must_ be smart. I heard those guys study like twenty hours a day!"

"I don't think it is quite that much, Gau." From the opposite end of the dining room Setzer entered. The dandy wore his customary regal attire- fine blue silk vest and breeches and white linen frilled shirt with a knee length blue jacket adorned with gilded cord and silver buttons. Strolling in to the room, his hard soled shoes clicking against the tiled floor, he relented, "Though they truly do need a lot of learning. Saving lives is a complicated business after all."

Elsa turned to him to gladly thank, in a manner she probably often did, "Yes, my Lord, and its all thanks to you that our boy got this splendid opportunity."

Holding up his hands in theatrical modesty, he corrected her with exaggerated tone, "Now, now, Madam, I never would have introduced young Jack to Banon had I not believed in his abilities. And surely the good healer would not keep an incompetent on his training staff." Steeping up beside her he looked from the woman to her husband, gladly offering, "No, that boy is making his way all on his own merits." Turning up an arrogant brow, he added in suggestion, "If you must thank me for anything, simply thank me for having such a stupendous eye for talent." They were hardly surprised by his ego, rather a bit amused. They had been working for him for a while after all. "Talk of greatness aside, let us away to the table to dine."

Br

Finally the house was clean again. "Damn house guests.." Sabin huffed in annoyance as he bundled up the last of the garbage. He had made some of them stay after the party to help with the clean up. Too bad the hung over make such lousy custodians. Ah, well… at least it was clean now. Moseying outside he plopped to a seat on the porch to look out on the horizon. The sun was nearly set, casting am orange hue across the purpling sky. He'd have to get the lanterns lit soon or be stumbling in the dark for them later. But for right now he just wanted to sit. There was a lot to think of; his upcoming tournament, the fate of Mobliz, not to mention Gau's soon to be fighting career. The boy'd have to fend for him self. 'He's a survivor. I'm sure he'll find a way.' Then there was that other little annoyance. After an aggravated groan, the martial artist spoke out, "How long do you plan to sit there in my bushes?" There was a sudden rustling from one large shrub, as if some animal in it had just gotten a spook. Turning a perturbed eye toward it, Sabin warned, "If you just broke a branch, I'm gonna break your arm. Now get out here!"

It was a moment before there was a response. Finally the bush shook once more as a body rose up from behind it and stepped out into the light. Stagnantly, Sabin asked the trespasser, "You've taken up peeping since your loss?"

"I'm sorry, Master." Brock groaned back as he hung his head. Sabin watched him sternly. The youth was pretty badly bruised up. He probably hadn't gone to a doctor after the fight.

'Too embarrassed or too stupid, take your pick.' Sabin figured, as he rested back against the wall of his house to look back to the darkening sky. "So, what do you want this late at night, punk? The dojo's closed at this hour. And you don't look up for training right now anyway. Don't tell me you just came to whine about losing."

"No." The boy answered surely, though he didn't bother to look up yet.

Peering down his nose in scrutinizing manner, Sabin inquired coldly, "Then what is it?"

"I-" He faltered a second, glancing up probingly to his Master's stern gaze, before answering, "I wanted to know. Is Gau really so strong? Or…" The words would not come easily. He had to practically force them to come, "Am I really that weak?" Sabin was silent. Anxiously Brock awaited the reply, fists balled tight and teeth clenched. It was as if he waited for news of how long he had left to live.

"Well..." The blonde fighter leaned forward, speaking finitely to his student, "If you have to ask that question, then you already have your answer." Brock gaped at the words of his Master. He couldn't believe the implications of what he'd just heard. Yet, Sabin bitterly clarified, "If you think you are weak then you are definitely weak." Crossing his thick arms over his chest, he callously instructed, "Now get out of my sight. I can't stand weak people." Brock was agape, frozen as some baroque embodiment of horrid disillusion. Here was the man he had idolized, molded him self after and spent the last three years of his life training under. This hero of his could now simply cast him aside with an errant phrase and a turn of his head. It was… unbelievable. And, yet the strong bodied youth felt his body weakly complying. AS if driven by some possessing force, he watched his feet lethargically shuffle round and slowly begin to stumble away from Sabin's dwelling. The harsh teacher, barely gave his departing back a glance and an annoyed "hrmph".

Staring down blankly to the dark path beneath his unruly feet, the young fighter was barely conscious on his feet, as his mind reeled in preoccupation. 'Did I waste all this time!' He silently, yet angrily, questioned himself. 'Three years- THREE YEARS! All that time, I could've been… I should've…' A beleaguered groan cleared his dry pallet as he weakly paced along down the steps. 'IDIOT! I actually thought I could compete with those guys. I thought I could...' His mind wandered as the words came from his mouth, "I thought I could."

While the youth disappeared down the steps, Sabin gave a disgruntled groan to his parting, punching the wood of his deck in a show of frustration. Grumbling incomprehensibly of weakness, the Master stood from his seat to head back inside. He wouldn't be able to sit comfortably now.


	7. the path of others

_Wow.... it's been... a while... since I bothered updating this story. I wonder if I even have any readers left. Oh well... some RL problems popped up and rather stunted my interest in writing this for a while. Hopefully it is still something worth reading. _

_I'll try to update again soon. For now though, please read and review. _

_Thanks- Lunauc_

**Duelist's Law**

**Chapter 7- "... the path of others.**"

"Wha- what do you mean, he's not here?"

Sabin scratched his ass lazily as he let out a big yawn. It was way too early in the morning to be bothering with etiquette, regardless of uninvited guests. Callously he responded, "Just what it sounded like, dummy. Gau's not here." Groaning as he errantly picked some lint from his naval, he added dejectedly, "Don't tell me the stupidity of the other three is starting to rub off on you. You're supposed to be the smart one." With odd interest he examined the bit of yuck he had mined from his belly-button, between his thumb and fore-finger.

Across the threshold from him stood Carina, bearing crutches and a brace about her waist and thigh, accompanied by a balding, mustached older gentleman in fine suited attire. That was Baxter, the fifty-something butler of Carina's family. Sabin gave the man a glance, standing about half way down the path to the house, it would seem his young mistress had insisted on walking to the door on her own. The dojo master had only spoken to the butler a few times, but found him to be of acceptable convictions, even if he was a bit boring. Sabin only offered the man a greeting nod, which the old butler returned in kind, before looking back to the wounded student. The young lady, confused and a bit flustered was desperately trying to keep her young eyes averted from her apparently shameless Master as he picked at himself, while standing in the doorway wearing nothing but a white loin cloth, emblazoned with the image of a moogle riding a chocobo over the crotch flap. Sometimes she really had to wonder why she came to follow this man's teachings. However, that was really an internal debate for another time. There was suddenly a more pressing matter to deal with. Pushing her own misgivings aside, best she could, the female fighter forced a kind smile and inquired as naturally as possibly, "Where is he? I-I mean, this early in the morning he is usually doing his chores and getting the dojo ready."

Staring back at her blankly for a moment, the older man, hastily changed the subject. "Never you, mind that. What are you doing up at this time of the morning, walking around in the mountains with that injured hip?" Accusingly he pointed out the brace around her waist and hip and the crutches she was using to stand. "You should be home, in bed, recuperating." Crossing his arms as he scoffed, "Besides, isn't it a little inappropriate for young girls to be making calls on boys?" His head turned aside in apparent suspicion, while her face turned bright red. In his head he laughed at her timidity, 'Shyness to goofy boy properly gaged: No challenge.'

Tensing at the odd accusation, Carina reflexively retorted, "It is nothing like that at all!" Flinching back from her own raised voice, red faced and stiff she watched her Master give her a curious glance. Her annyonace was plain, and glancing over her shoulder to the elder butler found him with thick wrinkled brow furrowed and mustaches slanted in worry. 'It must be hard maintaining such a girl's lady like exterior.', Sabin pondered, before looking back to her student. Exhaling in frustration she took a swallow before speaking, "We were just on our way back from North Figaro. I had an appointment with Healer Banon yesterday afternoon. My parents insisted on it. Do not worry. He said I should be ready to start training again within the next couple of weeks, as long as I am careful." Coughing to clear her throat, and make sure her voice would not crack at a crucial moment, she inquired, "I-I just wanted to stop by on the way and see how Gau was doing. He's not at the hospital is he?" Her guess received only a negative shake of Sabin's blonde head..

"No I don't think he is." Sabin lazily replied, as he stared up to the ceiling in thought. "Of course, it's hard to say for sure, what with him not being here and all." He did enjoy teasing his students.

Once more the still blushing girl, who was steadily growing in aggravation, asked, "But, where did he go?"

Reaching up to scratch his head, he slowly lowered his gaze back to his student, feeling no need to hurry with an answer, regardless of her anxious expression. Finally he made the exhaustive effort to casually reply, "Jidoor."

She stared blankly back at him. Obviously it had not registered to her as a sensible fact yet. "Jidoor... ?"

"Yep."

Carefully she asked to confirm, "Jidoor, the country?"

"Yeah." He turned his eyes skyward in apparent contemplation, before adding secondarily, "Probably somewhere near the capital city of Jidoor as well though."

Carina stared into the large man's eyes, seeking for truth of his words. After all, he did enjoy teasing his students. Yet she could find no trace of deceit, a bit of discomfort at being stared at, but no deceit. She tried to remain calm, "WHAT?!" That failed. Taking a brief second to reel her self back in, she asked in a less excited tone, "Wh-why would Gau be in Jidoor?"

Sabin replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, "Cause that's where Setzer was going." Her expression went blank, while he added unnecessarily, "So, like I said, they should be in Jidoor by now. Though with the way Setzer is, they may have crashed somewhere or veered off course to ogle country girls."

The teen fighter's brow twitched at the last statement, and with a new annoyance to her aura, she asked, "But why would Gau go to Jidoor."

So far unaffected by her adolescent annoyance, Sabin continued to vaguely speak, "It's hard to explain. I guess I have to say he's gone to become a man." He turned his gaze from Carina surprised countenance to look out to the horizon in symbolic gesture. "You know, there comes a time when every young man must go out to sow his wild oats." Keeping his physical face straight, his mental self practically fell to the floor laughing, musing gleefully, 'Oh, this is going to be great!' Slowly he looked down to the girls face to view his handy work. Instead of shock, disbelief or even a disappointing show of grief, Carina wore a deathly scowl, which practically turned the legendary warrior's blood to ice water. Instinctively his eyes cast to Baxter for male aid, only to find a similar scowl of his young Mistress glaring down the martial arts master. Sabin quickly averted his eyes to the confines of his home, finding interest in a dark corner with nothing staring back at him. Holding his arms, trying not to tremble in front of the young girl, he thought only one thing, 'Scary.'

In a deep, somber, and in Sabin's opinion, emasculating tone, which reminded him of some horrible ghoul up from the grave, Carina demanded, "Wild Oats!? What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"

In a vain attempt to salvage his manhood, Sabin feigned clearing his throat, before crossing his arms strongly before his chest. He never had been very good at standing up to women. His Mother, the Matron, and pretty much every girl he had met since down to this lovesick teen on his doorstep all rather intimidated him. Maybe because he was so use to resorting to violence to solve his problems and it was so ingrained in him to never hit a girl. Then what the hell are you suppose to do when they get angry at you? Just stand and take it? It wasn't fair. But then again, this wasn't really time for introspection. With his head turned away, he stated in consolation, "He's gone off to become a Duelist."

Carina's dark aura finally sated, much to Sabin's relief, and now she just looked up to him in bewilderment, "You're-you're letting him join? He didn't run away did he?"

"Nope." Chancing a look back to the girl's face, and thankfully only finding a concerned expression, he explained, "It was my idea. If he's serious about competing, I'll give him the chance to prove him self." His words were sincere, and so seemed to be the somber expression which Carina now wore.

It was a moment of silence before she weakly asked, "When did he leave?"

"Hmmm?" One blonde brow arched to the girl's question, as Sabin replied, "It was yesterday morning. I sent him off with Setzer. Since he never came back, I just figured he must have went."

Carina quickly zeroed in with suspicion, "What do you mean 'must have went'?"

"I told Setzer not to tell him he was going until he was on the ship." Immediately he regretted that admission, as Carina's dark scowl began to resurface.

"You did not even give him a chance to say goodbye to his friends?!" The upset exclamation made the strong man cringe. Dropping his invulnerable facade for a second he hurried to explain.

"I-it was for his own good!" The relentless stare down, or up, as it were, hastened Sabin to explain, "This had to be his decision." Carina's gaze only slightly relented as Sabin went on, "If me or you guys were there, you know Gau. He'd be asking us what we think he should do. He'd be worried about abandoning his friends and the dojo. I didn't want him stopping to think about obligations." The brash girl's persistence waned, as the words settled in. "One letter saying he had the freedom to go if he wanted to. It didn't give him the time or the opportunity to worry. He only did what he wanted to do."

Sabin eased as the girl's fire shrunk to saddened embers before his eyes. Meekly the words came, "So, he wanted to leave?"

He was not sure if it was a question or a statement, but his answer was the same either way. Reaching out to hold her shoulder in support, he assured her, "No, he just has something he has to do. He'll be back." She looked up to him hopefully. At least she was not crying or anything. He couldn't handle that. "Gau's not the kind of guy who ditches his friends. He'll definitely be back." She frowned a moment, but she seemed alright as she gave a meager nod.

With the last of her frustrations, she wearily complained, "He still could have said goodbye though."

As if by reflex, the teacher stated, "We never say goodbye." Carina's brow arched to the strangely profound sounding words from her usually dull and thoughtless teacher. Noticing her curiosity, he amended quickly, "Never mind. You just get home and worry about that hip. Alright?"

She agreed with a brief nod. "Yes, I'll do my best, Master Sabin."

"Good. Now get going." With a gesture of his head, he directed her away. Favoring her good leg, she hobbled away on her crutches. Halfway down the walk, Baxter met her, offering aiding hands, that she politely refused. Watching her go, he mused over this being a new habit of his students, walking away, which reminded him, "Oh, Carina, since you're going into town anyway..." She turned back to see what he wanted. "Would you mind stopping by Alonso's place and asking him to come in to cover as my assistant today?"

Her head cocked aside curiously, "Doesn't Brock usually come in on Mondays though?"

Hesitating, the older fighter's hand reached up to scratch his chin. "Well, about that..."

0o0

Morning was just breaking in Jidoor. The sun had started to rise less than an hour ago, yet many creatures were already up and about. Gau was among them. While the morning mist still hung in the air, he went about his daily exercises alone in Setzer's garden. Just a ways from the brick pathway, among the still dew wet grass, the young fighter carried out slow kata forms. His body strained tightly with each movement, as he worked one muscle against another, both ingraining techniques and strengthening muscles. After proper stretching, this was a good body hardening technique he routinely performed. Often he would try to picture an opponent and match his slow movements as if he were fighting, and this time was no different. He was more than anxious to become a real Duelist, and pondering over who his first opponent would be left him with an oddly amalgamated fighter. With his eyes closed, Gau envisioned his enemies next punch, his hands followed in response to block and return a punch for the opponent's face. The shadow ducked away and leaned in with a hooking body blow. The wild child's body arched aside, the imaginary slow motion punch barely grazing his ribs as Gau's waist twisted and his leg rose to deliver a knee to the enemy's gut. The hit scored, and opponent lurched back, face open for a final blow. Planting his feet, Gau leaned his weight into a right straight punch deadly aimed for his shadow rival's nose. As the hand clasped over his slow moving fist though, it was Gau who jumped in shock.

"UWAh!" Opening his eyes, he looked up to see Nigel glaring back down, as he held the boy's hand.

"What are you doing?" The enormous butler asked sternly.

Gau, still in a fighting pose, answered a bit unsurely, "Tr-training...?" Nigel gave a weary sigh, just before he shoved at the boy's hand. His great strength relayed down Gau's straightened arm forcing him backwards, and with the wet ground under his unprepared feet, he slipped and fell disgracefully on his rump. "Ooww!"

The ebony skinned man frowned at the boy's fall. It was an accident, but there was little point in debating the matter. So he resigned to reminding the foolish youth, "You are still injured. You are not suppose to be training."

"Oooaah?" Gau looked up quizzically as he rubbed his sore butt. "Why not? My bruises are mostly healed. See?" He shifted side to side, showing that his skin was mostly healed over with the exception of a bruise to his head and what was obscured under the bandages still wrapping his torso.

"Idiot-" Nigel chastised him, "-your external injuries may be better. But your internal damage is still going to take some time. If you go training like normal you'll only make things worse."

Gau gave a pout at the large man's criticism, arguing back a bit childishly, "I was taking it easy."

"Doesn't matter." Nigel reiterated firmly, "You're not suppose to be doing any kind of training for at least another few days. Follow the Doctor's orders."

"Yeah, yeah..." Gau replied dejectedly as he crossed his legs in a lazy lotus position and slumped forward with his elbows to his knees. Following a weary sigh, he asked without looking back up, "How long til I'm allowed to train?"

Nigel stared down at the quickly depressed child and assured him meagerly, "It will be a few days, at least. You do not need to re-injure yourself just before your debut."

The last word made the beast child's head pop up on cue, repeating curiously, "Debut? When?"

The boy's eager tone and expression forced a slight grin to the giant butler's face, and rose an amused breath from him, before he answered, "You'd have to ask Master Gabbiani."

"Oh." Gau's face hung for but second before resurfacing with optimism, "Is he awake yet?"

"The Master is not at home, actually." Nigel stated plainly. "He did not return from his outing with President Owzer last night. Often he will spend the night in the city or the estate of others. Generally he will return by morning."

"It's morning now." Gau pointed out quickly.

Nigel squinted his good eye in response, "The sun has barely risen, he should be back within a few hours."

"Great." Gau hopped up to his feet with surprising nimbleness and began to resume his fighting stance. "Let me know when he's here, please." He only started to throw a punch when the oversized hand of the behemoth butler grabbed him by the wrist. "UwAaooo.." An odd yelp left Gao's throat as he was dragged along back up the path. "H-HEY!"

Nigel dryly reiterated his earlier statement, "No more training for you. It is time to get cleaned and dressed for breakfast." Gau struggled to loose his arm from the steely grip, but to no avail.

In futility he whined along the way, "Oh, come on! I just took a bath yesterday!"

0o0

The clatter and clash of wood and bronze falling to hard wood floor rose throughout the apartment. A sporadic din of flung items and strung curses peppered the noise, garnering the attention of the young woman in the kitchen. "What are you doing in there?" She demanded as she stuck her head out into the hall. A bit tall, near six foot, with long straight black hair, and a rather plain face, she never expected to be declared a beauty queen. A healthy tan to her skin and bite to her voice was testament to her hard working life. Another crash sounded, and she gave an annoyed groan, before calling out again, "What the hell are you doing?" A second of silence before another bang, and the young woman was fed up. Untying her apron and tossing it aside on the table, she stomped off down the short hall, lecturing as she went, "You come back in the middle of the night, acting all grumpy and groany. You never took out the garbage like I told you to, and now you're making all kinds of noise. What's with you, Brock?" She demanded as she came to a halt in his doorway, fists at her hips as she stared him down.

Holding a sack in one hand, he looked back at her wryly. Chewing his lips as if he were about to retort, he took a second, before answering soberly, "I'm just throwing out some old junk, Kelsie. I'll take out the garbage in minute." He tossed a small plaque into the sack, before dropping it to the floor and turning away to scour through his dresser.

Suddenly curious, the slightly older girl stepped into the room, eyeing the bag. Probing, she wondered aloud, "What kind of junk?" She looked about his room, and found much of the staple decorations missing, though the mess of laundry and assorted, in her opinion, junk on the floor remained.

He took a moment before speaking, "Just some stuff I don't need anymore." Not happy with the reply, she wandered into his room and bent over to open the sack and peak inside.

Surprised by its contents she spoke up, "Brock isn't this all your awards you won for fighting?" She reached in, pulling out a small brass statute of a posed fighter. "Why would you throw this stuff out?"

He gave a weary glance back before returning to digging though his drawers. "I just don't need it anymore." Turning back around with a couple of ribbons, he tossed them in the sack too.

Staring at him incredulously, his older sister, replied, "What are you talking about? You were always so proud of beating people up. I never thought you'd let this stuff go." There was some jest to her words, but curiosity all the same.

Taking the trophy from her hand and returning it to the sack, Brock insisted, "They're just awards for junior and amateur fights. They don't mean anything." The questioning look on his sister's face was enough to prove she was not buying it. With a sigh, he tried suggesting, "What? I am supposed to be focusing on the future, not the past, right?"

"Yeah, I guess." She peered at him suspiciously, as she scoured a bit more in the sack, drawing an item out, she added, "Does your future not include you training gloves?" The friction worn old padded mitts dangled from the string round her finger as she pulled them from the bag.

Brock returned her an annoyed glare as he stuffed them back in, stating, "Well, they are pretty beat up."

Snidely she replied, "So are you, but you don't see me tossing you in the trash." Sure enough, his bruises were blatantly painted across his face, and being reminded of the fact did not make him any happier. Hoisting the sack, Brock shot his sister one more withering glance before heading out the door. He was stopped though, as Kelsie's voice softened to ask, "Brock... are you alright?"

He lingered in the hall a moment, before turning to look back at her. Usually pretty cynical, it was not often you got a sincere expression out of her. So he was not about to follow his first instinct of saying, "Mind your own business." Instead, he just gave a meager nod, and lied, "Yeah, everything's fine."

Her look was skeptical, but he wasn't going to stick around to talk it over. Heading down the hall, he stopped to pick up the trash can on the way, and headed out the door. Two flights of stairs and a back door later, Brock was in the ally behind their home and heading for the nearby trash bin. Kicking open the wooden lid, he dumped in the refuse of the trash can, before reaching for his sack of former treasures. His arm hesitated a second in its act of throwing them out. Drawing a deep breath, the burly youth opened the sack for one last glance at his gathered belongings. A horde of ribbons and cheap plaques were earned from junior fighting and bodybuilding competitions. Most were second or third place. But he had his share of blue ribbons and gold medals. As an amateur, he seemed to have shown some promise, but now he had to wonder if it was just because he lacked competition. Against the average, he stood out, but among the truly exceptional, such as his self-proclaimed rival, Uqba, and Brock's own younger, smaller and more powerful classmate, Gau, reality struck into him like a hammer driven pile in his skull, "Against guys like them, this isn't enough." Trophies and training gear alike clattered in among the trash. Brock stood there a moment, watching his life, literally going to trash, before swinging the lid shut on the bin. Still staring at the box as he stood in the alley, he wondered aloud to himself, "So, what next?"

*CRAKT*

The collision of a small rock off of his skull was not exactly, the answer he was hoping for. "Ow... what the hell?!" Though as he turned to find the stone-thrower, who obviously wanted to die, he did get one kind of reply; an angry one.

"Now you're going to explain to me why you're being such a big crybaby." She stared him down mercilessly, as she juggled another stone in hand, while the other held one crutch for support, waiting for his response.

The best he had to offer was confusion. "Carina?"

0o0o0

"And just what do you think you're doing?" She asked in a critical manner. Looking down her nose at the offender before her, she arched a fine brow awaiting a response. The accused before her hesitated, as a skittish glance chanced its way over to the intimidating woman, and was hard pressed to find an excuse under the watcher's scrutinizing eyes.

Rather helpless, the defendant tried to play off the truth in as goodly mannered a way as possible, "H-having a-a cookie...?" Standing up on a chair to reach the counter, the little girl had literally been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

"What you're gonna have is a sore tush, if you don't get your hand out of there." The woman cited as she wielded a wooden spoon menacingly in hand. The girl quickly withdrew the thieving appendage, hiding it behind her back along with her other, presumably covering her threatened behind. The woman gave a stifled giggle at the display and moved over to return the lid to the cookie jar. Following an exaggerated sigh, she spoke down to the girl, "I don't know what I'm gonna do with you, Hope. You know better than to be sneaking snacks in the middle of the day. I have half a mind to tell your Daddy, and see what he thinks."

The child hung her head, Blonde pig tails draping either side of her lowered face, as she replied woefully, "I'm sorry, auntie Terra." Terra Branford's stern expression faltered a bit at the sight of the adorable child's cowed expression. She always did have trouble maintaining her composure when disciplining the children. Why did they all have to be so cute? Conceding to her weakness, the former soldier turned den mother patted Hope on the head, stroking the girl's golden locks. She was glad to look up and see Terra's lovely face smiling back down.

"Alright, alright. If you're a good girl, you can have a cookie with your lunch." Hope's little face lit up. Usually they only got snacks after dinner, provided they had behaved. "Now get back outside and play. You only have a little while before the bigger kids get called back in for class."

"Thanks Auntie Terra!" Hope sprung forward with a quick hug at Terra's waist before hopping off the chair and rushing for the door, sundress flowing after her as she stopped only to slip on her sandles before pulling open the door and runnning out, letting it close on its own behind her. A content grin played on Terra's lips as she moved to the kitchen window to watch the girl run out to greet her friends. Katarin's oldest really had started to blossom. Though having so many other children to play with surely helped. Looking out among the expansive yard at the gathering of dozens of children from the small town of Mobliz smiling and playing always made her heart feel lighter. The last few years had been very good to her. After the war she had returned to her adopted children here. Even if it had just remained a lone orphanage in a ruined town, she probably would have been happy. But instead along came the well wishers who gathered to aid her in rebuilding this forgotten place. Some had the wrong idea at first. But once they stopped praying to her, they all became wonderful neighbors. Homes were rebuilt, fields were replanted, and with financing from the other nations, blessed additions were made. Most notable at the moment to Terra was the school house. The townspeople had decided to build it right next to Terra's orphanage, so that they shared a large yard and playground for all the children. This allowed the thankful young woman a sight out the window of all the children; in various groups, playing various games, some happy, some arguing, but all safe and all happy.

In four years she had not changed much. Still a lovely, youthful woman, of now twenty-two years, she hadn't even changed the style in which she wore her aqua green hair. Her attire had lost it's utility for the softer garb of a mother figure. For now she wore a plain yellow cotton sun dress, decorated only with slight embroidery of a couple of long green stemmed pink flowers along the right side of the skirt. As such she maintained a simple elegance, which often turned the heads of passing men. It also, along with her legendary status as the world saving half-esper, brought a string of strange men routinely to her door offering gifts and proposals. Back when she had first started settling the town, they would come in continuously, sometimes a dozen or more a week. Unimpressed by whatever self-absorbed notions they had, and a bit embarrassed by the sudden attention, she refused them one after another. Eventually the numbers dwindled to about a few a week, then a few a month, and even now she was getting one every few months. The last man had just come no more than a week earlier, a thirty-something ex-imperial soldier turned merchant from New Vector. He kneeled on her doorstep, as soon as she had answered the door, and made his declaration of how he had never gotten the image of her out of his head from his days as a soldier, catching glances at her from afar. And now, that he was a wealthy man, and his first wife had recently passed away, he wanted to give his first and truest love the luxurious life she deserved. Terra slammed the door in his face, literally. He had a broken nose and a bruised knee. That story was one she had heard all too often and she always refused the imperial soldiers who told it outright. Mostly because the sights of her which captivated them were always memories of herself on parade or in combat when she was Kefka's mindless puppet. And anyone who could claim to love her when she was in that degenerated state could not possibly know what the word meant.

Thus, she remained romantically detached, but that was alright. The children made her happy. This was what she assured her friends, though some people doubted her. Celes, in particular, was the greatest disbeliever. Often when they had the chance to get together, the aggressive blonde would be trying to talk her friend into dating one man or another. Be it some actor she knew from the opera, a young engineer under Cid's tutelage or even a passing stranger, the ex-general was ever striving to saddle her closest friend with a proper beau. Constantly Terra insisted that she was simply not interested, and if the right man did come along she would handle it on her own. Of course that never stopped the ex-General, and often she would push harder, with phrases like, "I'm all for protecting a girl's maidenhood, but if you're going to keep it locked away forever, you might as well just toss on a habit and declare yourself a nun. It would save the rest of us the effort of worrying."

Pokes at her 'inexperience' like that used to leave Terra flustered. But lately she has a wonderful knew comeback for Celes, "True, true. By the way, when are you in Locke getting married?" That generally shut her up. Four years of engagement and the duo were still dancing around the issue. Celes was busy being a big opera star, and Locke was always gallivanting around the world on one adventure or another. Part treasure hunter, part monster hunter, part diplomat, part wheeler and dealer, he always seemed to have something going on. Terra barely ever saw him anymore, though he was sure to send a letter every other week or so. Ever on the move as the two lovers were, neither Locke nor Celes were yet to concrete the date for their actual wedding. Though everyone was assured it wouldn't be too much longer. Terra on the other hand cited that she might never marry at all, once having even stated, "It seems most women only marry as an excuse to have children, and... I already have plenty." Some people took that to make a bit of sense, though it never stopped match makers like Celes. 'I might just have to become a nun after all.'

"No, no... not right now." A grumbling voice bickered from the door, which was quickly replied by young boys.

"Aaww.. Come on, you haven't played with us in days."

"Please, you're the best kicker!"

"Yeah, pleathe."

"I said, I can't right now. I have mail to deliver." Terra looked to the back door. There was a young man entering carrying a brown satchel dutifully at his side, he was haphazardly dressed in baggy and patched tan slacks held up by black suspenders and white cotton shirt with its sleeved rolled up in response to the warmth, while a grey cap held back the hair which usually hung to his chin. As he came into the house he was being pursued by a group of boys. It was a sight Terra was used to by now.

"Hi, Walter." She called over with a pleased tone. Finally noticing her, the lean framed man turned a grin to her. Terra had to admit, he had a boyish charm, had an innocently handsome face and was fun to be around. Hence, she took a moment to think it over back when Celes had suggested Terra approach him for a date months back. However, it never seemed appropriate to call on a young man, especially one who never showed such interest in her. Besides, Melinda from the bakery always had a crush on him, so Terra was not about to butt in. Besides, they were better as friends. Ever since Walter had come to town three years earlier he had been visiting the orphanage to play with the kids. Working for the local carrier pigeon and mail station, his deliveries often brought him to the house anyway, and the children would often drag him into playing one game or another. He was one to fuss and argue with the kids for their demands, but he always gave in, and seemed to have a fun time. And when playtime was over, or the kids weren't around, he and Terra would spend time talking or just hanging around. Unlike almost every other eligible man in town, he had never made an intimate advance toward her. Perhaps that was why she could be so friendly with him.

"Miss Branford, tell Walter he has to play kick ball with us!"

"Yeah!"

"Pleathe, Mama, pleathe."

Terra silenced them with a wave of her hand, answering strictly, "Hush. Walter has a lot of work to do right now." The boys grumbled and fidgeted in minute rejection, before Terra added conspiratorially, "Though I'm sure he wouldn't mind playing with you later."

The kids' faces lit up, while Walters' quickly painted over with mock aggravation. "Hey! Don't just volunteer me to these brats!"

Returning a noncommital shrug, Terra carelessly responded, "Why not? You were going to give in eventually anyway."

"You don't know that!" He flung back half heartedly. But the kids disagreed.

"Yeah, you were."

"Definitely."

"You alwayth play with uth."

His brow twitched at the insinuation, as the boys turned to head back outside, calling back to him.

"We'll play after school."

"Don't be late!"

"Thankth, Walther!"

"Conceited little brats." The postman grumbled as he turned from the door and stalked into the kitchen fixing an exaggerated glare on Terra, who barely held back a smile. "Stop doing that every time. You have those kids treating me like their personal jungle gym."

Restraining her amusement, She dryly replied, "Aren't you?"

"No!" He indignantly corrected, "My job is much more important than that! I'm a delivery boy!" Whether or not he was serious didn't much matter, as Terra's aloof facade was broken by a slight giggle at his feigned distress.

"Alright, then, what do you have for me today, delivery boy?" She mentioned the title with all the mock importance she could manage.

Walter leaned in with a cocked brow. Holding up a pink envelope he replied, "This letter arrived for you by carrier pigeon this morning. Though with how you're acting. I'm wondering if I should give it to you at all." Holding the letter hostage in his raised hand, he suggested, "Perhaps it is time for an apology." Instead what he got was to see a hand flash by at blinding speed, snatching the parcel away. Before he even knew what happened, Terra was moving to a nearby drawer to get out a knife to open the envelope with. "Um... right. Since I know you didn't really mean to abuse me, I suppose I won't keep your letters from you." It was a silly attempt at maintaining his manhood, But it made Terra smile again all the same. Seeing the subtle upturn of her full lips and the mild blush to her cheeks, he was content to smile back and rest against the counter.

Pulling the letter from it's compact little envelope, Terra hastily unfolded it as the scent of a familiar perfume on the paper reached her nose. "Speak of the devil herself....." Terra noted idly as she opened the floral print framed page to find her friend's fine, elegant hand writing. She had spent weeks perfecting it, after joining th opera full-time, to make sure her autographs were just right.

"Say what?" Walter inquired from aside.

Terra fidgeted a bit as she realized her own slip of the tongue. Glancing up to the delivery boy, she explained, "It's from my fried, Celes." Her smile went flat though, as she noticed Walter taking a bite out of a cookie, as his other hand replaced the lid on the cookie jar.

"Gwhut?" He asked, through a sweet-filled mouth.

Staring hard at him, while he chewed obliviously, Terra cited decisively, "I just got through telling Hope that she couldn't have cookies before her meal. And now you come in here and snatch one without a care. What kind of message does that send the kids if one saw you. Huh?"

Swallowing, he took a moment to think it over before suggesting, "That I'm better than they are?" The aqua-haired den mother gave a forced groan to his careless answer, to which he held up his hands in surrendering consolation, and with a slight chortle changed the subject, "So what does your friend, the Opera Singer, have to say?"

An abstract pout hung on Terra's lips a moment, as she pulled back to bring up the paper for viewing. Hesitating a moment in her stern stare at the young man beside her, it was not until he let slip a slight snicker of amusement at her playful authority. Finally she turned her eyes to the letter, to read aloud, _"My Dear Friend, Terra, I hope this letter finds you and the children well. As for myself, the gallivanting lifestyle of an international Opera Super Star is treating me just as well as ever."_ Taking a break from reading, she glanced aside to sarcastically add, "Well, at least she's still modest." Truthfully, Terra could recall Celes being positively bashful about public performance, when the Impressario first approached her about joining the troupe. Yet, like so many others, after the war, she wanted to start a new life as far removed from battle as she could. So, with some encouragement from her friends, she gained the courage to hang up her armor, don a lovely gown and find her new place among the lime lights. Terra supposed it was her blond friends way of replacing her soldier lifestyle, as she approached the Opera with all the gung ho flare she once held for drilling soldiers and giving life or death commands, And one of her biggest selling points as a star was the way she broke the typical damsel in distress role, with strong heroine leads, a commanding voice and staged sword fights. She was even known to play male leads at time, when the role for the charming prince was too lovely or dashing for the actors to pull off as well. So, as much as Terra may laugh at her friend's inflated bravado, she certainly lived up to it. _"Recently I'm playing the role of Salena, the Pirate Princess, in Mortiere's "Sea Breeze Salutation". It is a lovely role, with a lot of swaggering and sword fighting. Plus, after spending so much time with Locke, I know just how a rogue should act."_ Terra knew anyone else would get an earful from the treasure hunter for insinuating him to be a rogue, but among their group it had become an adorable running gag. Besides, constantly away and frequently refusing to say where he'd been or what he was doing... well, if the shoe fits... _"Oh, and even better, it seems I'll be having some familiar company this time. Guess who has been cast for the part my character's half-sister, Princess Ailene."_Terra quirked a brow in thought as she read on, _"Need a hint? She just finished a tour in North Figaro. She's almost as tall as me now, almost as famous and almost as lovely. Her hips are filling out nicely and her skin is soft and smooth, though her chest is still develo-"_ Terra paused her reading to glance at Walter, as he was suddenly listening intently. A brief glare of disapproval elicited a coy chortle from the delivery boy, who quickly averted his blushing gaze.

Grinning at his act, Terra returned to the letter to read, _"Give up? It's Relm. She wasn't going to take the part at first, saying that she wanted to take a break from the stage to focus on her painting. However, I was able to talk her into coming. After all, I haven't gotten to see the squirt in months. I have to admit, I've missed her loud mouth." _Terra smiled in nostalgia. Thinking back, she hadn't seen Relm in almost a year, back when she visited the orphanage to play with the children. Though with all the reporters and fans following the young starlet it was more like a publicity stunt than a friendly visit. When they got a moment alone Relm was sure to apologize, citing that it was like that everywhere she went nowadays. Truly, while Terra's fame settled down with her, Relm's notoriety had been inflating ever since the fall of Kefka. With little in the way of modesty, Relm was quick to express her contributions to the war effort to anyone who cared to listen. Soon she was almost as recognizable as the grown up heroes, though few took her power seriously. Still, the adorable girl gained a fan base even then for her bravery and boldness. It would have been short lived though, had not Owzer stepped in to finance her artworks. He brought her talents to the public and her glorious paintings did not go unappreciated. Quickly she was being declared a genius, a prodigy, and when Celes introduced the girl to the Opera, Relm became an idol. It was a couple years ago now, when Celes was still easing in to her new lifestyle, that she offered Relm a role as the fairy, Gwenwee, in Faradae's _"Forest of the Phantom Tree"_. At first Relm hesitated. In spite of her boisterous attitude around most people, appearing on stage in front of a gathering of strangers seemed a frightening prospect. However, Celes worked with Relm, to sculpt her voice into a fine instrument. After her first solo on stage, she was a star. Now, between her paintings and the stage, she has become a top idol. Even here in Mobliz you could find fans trading pictures of her or listening to her records, even collecting her paintings, or copies of them anyway.

"Wow... Miss Celes and Miss Relm, live on stage together. Aaaahh.... sounds nice." Walter's dreamy tone was mated with a wide smile and upward turned gaze, which earned a bemused peer aside from Terra.

With a slight snicker, she pointed out, "Yeah, just pull your tongue back in your mouth. It's rude." As she looked back to the paper, he made an exaggerated slurping sound, presumably sucking his tongue back into place, like sucking up a strand of spaghetti, again making Terra glance his way, just to receive a teasing grin. With a giggle at his antics, she just shook her head and returned to reading the note. _"If I can I'll try to convince the Impressario to book a charity gig in Mobliz for the children. Relm already said she would love to visit again, and so would I."_

"Aaaahhh.... we are a blessed little town." Walter sighed out reverently, earning one more mixed glance from green haired matron.

"Strange, you didn't seem as happy when King Figaro visited." Terra needled jokingly, as she skimmed the rest of the letter.

Walter just shrugged, noting, "I like opera better than politics."

"Yeah, who doesn't?" Terra replied with some skepticism, and some truth.

"So, what else does Miss Celes say?" The delivery boy inquired from his seat on the counter top.

"Um..." Terra hesitated, skimming the next paragraph silently, as Celes went into her usual match maker mode, describing the merits of one of the male leads in the play, who she thought would make a fantastic romantic endeavor for Terra, when the theater group made their way to Mobliz. Of course, she was not about to read that aloud. With some relief, she found the next paragraph to return to plainer topics. _"By the way, I ran into Setzer at a party they other day. He was his usual swaggering self, busy charming nobles and young ladies alike, but he was kind enough to grace me with a few moments of conversation." _The written sarcasm was not lost on a smirking Terra, knowing well their roguish friend's aloof manner, _"He told me about an upcoming dispute summit over Mobliz. I figure you already know about it, given you're position." _Yes, she knew. After all, she was practically the spiritual center of this town, in spite of her refusal in accepting worship. Mayor Crier and the council had of course approached her for advice in the matter and when it was agreed they would bid for independence, they were quick to ask her to compete for the sake of Mobliz, as a Duelist. Thankfully they accepted her refusal. As loud and demanding as they people here could be at times, they always respected her desire for a peaceful life, and went out of their way to ensure it for her. Thus, she could not be upset with their inquiry or their desires for independence. Still... _"I hope everything turns out alright. Of course, if you need anything, I'm always here for you. Either way, I'll be waiting to hear back from you. Your Dear Friend, Celes."_ She finished the letter aloud, smiling to herself a bit, and half-joking as she looked back up to Walter, noting, "I better not let Mayor Crier see this letter. He might think Celes is offering to duel for us. And knowing her, she would."

Walter returned a half hearted snicker, as he slid down from the counter, reaching into his satchel to fish out a small scroll, speaking wearily, "And that brings us to this." Holding it forward, so that Terra could see the Mobliz seal holding it closed, he watched her grimace slightly, before explaining, "It came in by carrier pigeon this morning. I figured you might want to unwind with your friend's letter, before..."

"Right... um.. thank you." Terra unsurely assured, as she reached out to take the scroll. Moving it to the table, to pop the seal with her kitchen knife, Walter looked on over her shoulder silently. They both knew what this note was about, and both fretted visible over the content.

As she unfurled the stiff rolled parchment, and began to silently read, Walter waited patiently a moment, before asking tactfully, "What does it say?"

When she looked up, with the makings of a frown pulling at her mouth, he already knew, before she spoke, "The Duel is set for next month."

0o0o0

"I can't believe you could be so stupid!" Carina bickered at Brock, from over the table. With her need to sit and rest her sore hip, she'd coaxed him into following her to a bench along the street. After all, he could outrun her easily, but he had enough consideration not to make her chase him down in her pained state, and he knew her. She'd chase. So would the properly dressed old butler, who stood off a ways to let the youngsters speak privately. Though Brock was acutely aware of the elders mindful eye on them. "It's not like you've never lost a fight before."

With a huff and a forced laugh, the burly boy nodded in jovial defeat, "Yeah.. ya got that right. And if ya aren't getting it, that's kind of the point."She fixed him with a demanding stare, from which he turned his eyes to the street, scrutinizing the cobblestone a moment, before explaining, "If I can't compete, then there's no point in fighting."

Not about to take that as a final answer, Carina shook her head, arguing simply, "Don't give me that. You love competing. You're the most emphatic of us all. I mean, how many junior tourneys have you won, huh?"

"That's not the point." Brock bit back, frustration etched on his brow, "Yeah, I had fun with the junior tourneys and the body building and I love martial arts, but..."

"But what?" She insisted with annoyance.

"But.... I'm already nineteen." The bullet point fact was soft spoken with hard meaning, "I won't be able to compete in the Juniors much longer. Then at the least, I have to move up to the amateur circuits to compete."

"So?" Carina asked, still edged with determination, though voice wavering a bit as she watched Brock's body sag a bit in his seat. "You're strong enough to compete in the amateurs."

"But how long can I afford to?" Brock groaned out, staring off to a group of pigeons picking at the garbage from a receptacle across the street, taking an interest in their flapping wings and squabbling over their edible finds, while he explained aside, "I've watched other guys like me for a while now. Guys older than me who left the Junior leagues and moved into the amateurs, still hoping to get picked up by a pro circuit. That's what usually ends a fighter. The waiting." He watched a couple of the hungry birds flap about in a tug of war of a piece of stale bread, while he spoke, "Making a few gil hear and there winning junior tourneys is a hoot and all, but you can't survive on that kind of coin for long. And in the amateurs, if you want to get paid you have to be able to win, or at least compete. I've seen a lot of guys in the last few years, who went ahead of me into the minors, and they all give it up eventually. And its not just the frustration, and it isn't because they stop loving the sport. It's because they just can't afford to cling to the dream any longer."As one bird took flight winning the bread morsel, leaving the other squawking from the trash pile, Brock looked to Carina. "I don't want to be one of those guys. My sister and me are having enough trouble getting by as it is, without me wasting time with a reckless job that stacks up doctor bills and only pays worthwhile if I can win."

Carina just stared back it him for a moment, thinking over his words for a may around them, offering finally, "If it's about money, I can.."

"What..? Loan me a piece of your allowance?" The indignant reply, made her tense and silence, which made Brock recoil quickly and sorrowfully for her expression. Surely she came from a wealthy family, but he had to reply, "No, I couldn't. Even if a few gil here and there isn't much to you, it's more than I can take. I don't have much, but I still have my pride."

She shrunk back a bit, asking somewhat rhetorically, "Is your pride worth more than your dream?"

It was with some bemusement, Brock snickered back, answering wearily, "At least my pride I can reach. After that fight...." His words fell away, thinking back on that match, and Gau's pitying eyes. Tensing for a second, he breathed out, "I couldn't even make him take me seriously. I made such a ruckus about taking down Uqba, psyching myself up to beat him and gain some recognition, and in the end, I couldn't even put up a challenge for Gau!"

She flinched at his exclamation, needing a brief pause, before demanding, "So what?"

Eyes alive again with aggravation, Brock looked back at her, citing, "This was my last chance to beat that stuck up prick, Uqba. I was gonna prove to myself and everyone else that I had what it took. Even if I didn't beat him, if I could fight him on even terms and show I had gotten stronger, maybe things would be different. But Gau... Gau...? He's always been the careless goofy kid who can't walk, talk or act straight. I mean, yeah, he's been studying longer than me, but I never thought... I mean..." Groaning, he pinched his eyes closed, thinking back on those woeful red eyes, and speaking somberly, "He didn't even have to try. He held back so much, and still he tore right through me."

Carina argued back, "Uqba couldn't beat him either. But he isn't quitting!" As Brock eyes opened, in a 'so what' manner, the injured heiress confessed, "Look, Gau shocked us all. None of us really knew that much about his past before that article. I mean, we knew the basics, but none of us thought he was really a full Returner war vet, and we had no idea he was so strong. Are you upset because you lost? Or just because you're still underestimating who you lost to, just like Uqba did?" As Brock silently turned his gaze away, Carina thought over her next words, Gau's eyes traipsing into her memory as well. Though her vision, wasn't on the pitying gaze he gave to Brock, rather the blood red bestial fury she'd seen during his fight with Uqba. She still couldn't get that image out of her head. But she tried to focus on what was in front of, rather than what bored into the back of her mind, speaking to Brock patiently, "Just because you didn't expect it from him, doesn't mean you're any weaker. What if it had been Master Sabin who thrashed you in the ring? Would you be so heartbroken now?" Finally he looked back to her, and she was hopeful as he thoughtfully looked her in the eye. But then he just stood up.

"It doesn't matter now." He spoke down to her, as she frowned to his reply. "When you see it for yourself, when you feel how wide the gap is between where you are and where you want to be... you have to consider if it's worth risking the fall to take the leap, ya know?"

Eyes beginning to water, as she looked up to him, Carina finitely asked, "Isn't it worth it?"

Brock bit his lip, turning away, grumbling in reply, "That's thing... I just don't know anymore."

With that he turned to walk off, Carina calling after him, "Brock..? Brock!"

0o0o0

"When's my first fight?" The rough spoke question caught Setzers attention. Mostly because it came from the green haired boy squatted outside of his carriage, who'd made the inquiry just as the gambler's door was opened by Nigel to let him exit.

"You could at least offering a greeting before making demands." Setzer insisted, correcting the boy's manners, while stepping down from the carriage.

"Oh... Hello." Gau replied with a smile, before repeating, "When's my first fight?"

"Never with that attitude." The gambler poked back, quirking a shewd brow as Gau gaped at him. "Though if you can act more socially conscious, we can discuss the matter."

"Um.. okay. I can be so-shully contchus." Though he said that, Sabin had to wonder if they boy understood the statement. And was practically sure he didn't, when Gau again asked, "So, when's my first fight?"

Sighing in exaggeration, Setzer strolled past Gau, toward the front door of the manor, the boy standing upright to follow after. As they walked, Setzer spoke, "I have my promoters looking for a proper first bout for you, which will be decided once you are deemed ready to fight, which should be a few days from now." Glancing to Gau, who had a gleaming smile now, Setzer added, "And I do not wish to hear any further questions of the matter until then, understood?"

Gau stopped to nod emphatically, "Gotcha. I'll wait."

"Good." Setzer answered, and turned to walk to his doorstep. As another servant opened the door for him, he paused to turn back, adding to Gau, "But, in the meantime, I thought you might be interested in seeing where you'll be fighting. So, tomorrow, I've planned a little excursion. We will head into the city to see the day's matches at the Gold Dragon Arena. If it will be your home turf, you may as well get acquainted with the place."


End file.
